It All Comes Down to Nothing More Than Just a Few Minutes
by Enthusiastic Fish
Summary: A boring stakeout becomes anything but when Tim appears to have a heart attack. Now, the question is why and what will that mean? Ten chapters, plus a short epilogue. Will post one chapter per day.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This story was written for the Long-Winded Title Challenge. Hence the long title. :) It stars Tim as per usual, but Tony, Ducky and Gibbs all have significant roles.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own NCIS or its characters and, unfortunately, I'm not making any money off this story.

* * *

 **It All Comes Down to Nothing More Than Just a Few Minutes  
** by Enthusiastic Fish

 **Chapter 1**

 _Every 44 seconds...within 15 minutes...as little as 5 minutes...100 beats per minute...At least 60 minutes..._

Tim took a deep breath and shifted position to reduce the discomfort he felt in his chest. After days of being on stakeout, he would swear his body was starting to cramp up in protest of the uncomfortable conditions. Day after day of hoping to find some evidence and getting absolutely nothing and Tim was ready to go crazy. However, he was trying not to complain about it because Tony would just give him grief.

Still, it had been getting worse today. There didn't seem to be any position that relieved the discomfort. It didn't help that Tony was grumpy, too.

"You're getting fidgety, McGee," Tony said, not looking at him. "You're starting to get on my nerves. Knock it off."

"Sorry," Tim muttered. He didn't feel any desire to bicker about it. It would take too much energy.

"You're not the only one that's been here for the last two weeks, you know."

"I know that, Tony."

"Then, stop it. If you give away our position and make all this time worthless, I'll kill you."

"No one is going to see me moving in the car," Tim said.

"They might. And I am _not_ going to start all this over again. So stop it."

Tim just took another breath and let the matter drop. But he couldn't stay still. He felt so uncomfortable. Everything just felt off. Maybe if he walked around a little bit.

Tony sighed with irritation at his renewed movement. Tim didn't want to deal with it. He opened the car door and got out, intent on walking off his discomfort, this feeling of things being wrong.

"Hey! What are you doing, Tim? We're not just out for a fun evening. We're supposed to be on stakeout in case these guys come back!"

Tim ignored him and started walking down the sidewalk, away from the car and away from the house they'd been watching. He felt like he couldn't get a good breath of air. He just needed to get over this. Suddenly, the discomfort became a strange tightness in his chest. He slowed down, wondering what was going on. Vaguely, he heard Tony coming up behind him, but he didn't turn around. He just couldn't seem to muster the energy. In fact, he started sweating like he was running a marathon.

"Tim, I know that we're getting on each other's nerves, but what's going on with you? You can't just leave a stakeout!"

He felt Tony's hand on his shoulder.

"Tony...I..."

Then, the tightness progressed abruptly to outright pain. For a few seconds, Tim thought it was just a momentary thing and would go away, but then, it got worse. The pain was intense and it felt like his heart wasn't beating right.

Tony turned him around and Tim could see the concern on his face.

"What's wrong?" Tony asked.

"Chest...hurts," Tim said.

Suddenly, it dawned on him what he'd just said. His chest? His heart? What was happening?

"Am I...having a heart attack?" he gasped out. It didn't seem possible. He was only in his thirties!

"I don't know," Tony said, but he was already pulling his phone out and dialing.

The pain had progressed to feeling like something was crushing his chest and he wasn't sure if he could keep breathing like this. He could feel sweat dripping down his face and trickling down his back. Tony grabbed him and dragged him back to the car. Tim felt Tony push him down onto the seat.

"Just relax, McGee, and don't die on me."

Tim managed to laugh a little, but it hurt a _lot_. It was like something was squeezing his heart tighter and tighter. He started tugging at his shirt, trying to loosen it.

"Not...planning...on it."

He said that, but he started seeing black spots. He wanted to tell Tony about it, but he couldn't seem to get the breath to talk. Before long, all he saw was black, and all he felt was pain.

 _Every 44 seconds...within 15 minutes...as little as 5 minutes...100 beats per minute...At least 60 minutes..._

"I think my friend is having a heart attack," Tony said, hardly believing he was saying the words and meaning them. Tim was too young to be having a heart attack! How could he possibly be having a heart attack? This happened to people who were unhealthy, people who were old. It didn't happen to young, healthy guys like Tim. Maybe it wasn't. Maybe it was something else and it just _seemed_ like a heart attack. Maybe it was indigestion. People had that and thought it was a heart attack, sometimes, right? Maybe it was just indigestion. Maybe...

The thoughts went through his mind, but he tried to keep himself focused.

"He said his chest hurts, and..."

Tony broke off and dropped his phone when Tim suddenly slumped down in the seat, eyes closing as his head lolled back.

"No, no, no! Come on, Tim! Don't do this to me!"

He shook him a couple of times, but Tim didn't appear to be breathing.

He picked up the phone again. "He just...passed out. I don't think he's breathing."

" _All right, sir. What I need you to do is get your friend flat on his back and start performing CPR. Shoot for 100 beats per minute."_

"Right. Right. I know how to do that," Tony said.

" _We have your location and I've dispatched an ambulance. Just do CPR until they get there. I'll stay on the phone in case you need me."_

Tony set the phone down and pulled Tim out of the car. Tim was so limp, almost seeming lifeless. Tony lay him on the ground and started performing chest compressions. They all were certified to perform CPR, but it had been a while since he'd actually done it. So instead of trying to remember all the numbers for alternating chest compressions and breathing, he just focused on the chest compressions as he'd been told.

"Come on, Tim. You are _not_ going to do this to me," he said.

As he continued to perform CPR, hoping he wasn't screwing it up, Tony suddenly remembered what he'd been taught at a seminar once.

" _If you need something to keep you in the right rhythm, just start singing 'Stayin' Alive' by the BeeGees. And it's fitting, isn't it? You're trying to keep the person alive by making sure their heart doesn't stop."_

As soon as he'd thought it, the song popped into his head and he moved into the rhythm of the song.

"Stayin' alive, stayin' alive. Feel the city breakin' and everybody shakin' and we're stayin' alive, stayin' alive."

How long would it take the ambulance to get there? Tony wanted to ask the 911 dispatcher, but he didn't want to stop CPR to do it. He'd just have to keep on, hoping that they'd get there soon. Very soon. This was tiring.

"You've got to pull through this, Tim," Tony said, a little breathlessly. "Whatever is going on, you've got to pull through it. Okay? Otherwise, I'll have to keep singing this song for the rest of my life. I'll never get it out of my head if you die while I'm thinking of it. ...and I don't care if that doesn't make any sense. You hear me? I don't care."

Tim didn't respond. He just lay there, his body moving a little in reaction to Tony's frantic CPR. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he could hear a siren getting closer and closer. Still, he didn't stop the chest compressions. Until there was someone on the scene who could take over, he'd keep it up.

He heard the ambulance and looked up as it came to a stop beside him. He didn't stop the compressions, but he was relieved to see the paramedics getting out of the ambulance.

"What happened?"

"He was acting a little weird, got out of the car and then, he started having chest pains. He passed out after a couple of minutes."

One of the paramedics took over the CPR, giving Tony a much needed break.

"Any history of heart problems?"

"Not as far as _I_ know."

"Okay. What's his name?"

"Tim... Tim McGee."

"What a coincidence," the paramedic said. "My name is Tim, too."

They moved Tim onto a stretcher and loaded him into the ambulance. Tony took one step forward, thinking he'd go along, but the EMT held him back.

"We're taking him to Virginia Hospital Center. Go to the ER and ask for him."

"Right."

The EMT closed the doors and then got in the front. Tony watched the ambulance pulled away. He let out a whoosh of air. What had just happened? How had things gone from irritating to possible death so quickly? ...and not death from a gun battle. Tim could have died from something that maybe was a heart attack. It just didn't make any sense!

Then, he remembered that the 911 dispatcher would still be on the phone. He picked up his phone from the ground.

"Hello?"

" _Did the ambulance get him?"_

"Yeah. Hey...how could he be having a heart attack? He's only in his thirties and he's healthy."

The dispatcher sounded sympathetic. _"There could be a hidden genetic disorder. It could be that he's not as healthy as he looks. There are a lot of causes for heart attack, if that's what happened, but you got him help very fast and the time matters. It's usually a matter of minutes. He'll likely recover. I recommend that you go to the hospital so that you can be there when he needs someone he knows."_

"Right. Thanks."

" _It's my job. Good-bye."_

Tony hung up the phone. One more loud exhale and he called Gibbs to let him know what had just happened.

 _Every 44 seconds...within 15 minutes...as little as 5 minutes...100 beats per minute...At least 60 minutes..._

Tim was conscious of sounds around him, sounds and noise and... light? He opened his eyes a little bit. There was something over his face, too.

"Don't worry, Mr. McGee. We've got you under control. It'll all be okay."

That crushing pain was still there.

"Doesn't...feel like it..." Tim gasped out.

"I'm sure it doesn't. Now, my name will be easy for you to remember because it's the same as yours."

"Tim?" he asked.

"Exactly. And I'm not letting a fellow Tim die. We're almost to the hospital. Based on the ECG, it does look like you're having a heart attack, but people survive those every day. So don't sweat it."

"How...could I be having...a...heart attack?"

"It happens. I wouldn't dare diagnose it, right now. All you need to do is let us treat you for it."

"We're 30 seconds out. They're waiting for us."

"You hear that?" Tim asked.

Tim nodded.

"We're almost there and the doctors here are some of the best for cardio problems. How does the pain feel? How would you describe it?"

"It hurts," Tim said.

Tim smiled. "Yes, but tell me what kind of pain it is."

"Like...someone is...sitting on my chest and squeezing my heart. Hard to...breathe."

"Never had anything like this before?"

All Tim could do was shake his head. It was hard to get words out.

"Here we go!"

The voice that didn't belong to Tim was welcome since it seemed to mean that they were at the hospital. Before he knew it, he was being pulled out of the ambulance and moved somewhere else and there were more words and incomprehensible things being said about him.

There was so much activity around him that Tim wondered if he was even a part of it. There was talking and some crazy-sounding beeps. A lot of noise. It sure didn't feel like he was needed. It felt much more like he was extraneous to what was going on.

"Hello?" he asked in the midst of all the noise. "What's happening?"

Then, Tim was there again.

"Hey, Tim. Don't worry about a thing. These docs sometimes forget that the patient doesn't speak medicalese. They're going to take good care of you. In fact, I'm going to turn you over to Cheree, here. She's going to translate when you don't get it. All right? I'll check on you later and see how my fellow Tim is doing. Good luck, man."

Then, Tim was gone, but as he'd said, there was someone else there.

"Okay, Tim. I'm Cheree. We're going to see what we can do to take care of your pain. All right?"

All Tim could do was nod a little bit, but he did that. His world had mostly been distilled down to just his heart. That horrible pressure, the pain that made him wonder if his heart was going to explode.

He almost wished it would, just to get rid of this. It felt like it had been going on forever.

The chaos around him calmed a little bit and Cheree was back.

"Tim, you should start feeling better soon. We're giving you some medication that should get those arteries open and the blood flowing again."

He wished she would just do it and not talk about it. But after another eternity, he did start to feel better. He still felt terrible, but the pain eased off a little and he didn't feel like the squeezing was going to make his heart explode.

"ECG is looking better."

The voice from whoever was calm. Tim himself did _not_ feel calm. He just didn't feel like he was going to die a painful death.

"Good, Tim. You're doing great. Just keep on like this."

"Like what?" he managed to whisper. "...not doing anything."

Cheree laughed a little. "You're doing exactly what you should be. You're letting us do the work and your body is listening to us. That's great."

"Is...it over?" he asked.

"Yes. Just relax and that will help."

Tim blinked a few times and turned his head toward where Cheree must be. He saw a nurse smiling at him encouragingly.

"Was that...a heart attack?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Never want...that again."

"I don't blame you. We're going to figure out what caused it and make sure it doesn't."

He still didn't feel quite right, but it was far and away better than he'd been feeling before.

"What now?"

"Now, we're going to get you to a room and we're going to start doing some tests to see what made this happen. We'll keep the ECG going and the oxygen supplement."

"What?"

Tim looked at himself and realized that his shirt was open and he had a bunch of sensors on his chest. He looked over and saw the heart monitor. He hadn't noticed any of that when it had been done. In fact, he hadn't even really noticed anything besides himself...or rather, besides his pain.

"Oh."

"If you feel the pain come back or if you start feeling like you can't breathe, just push the call button and we'll come."

"Okay."

They did move him out of the ER and got him in a hospital gown and he had the cannula and heart monitor as promised. It was only when he was alone that he had the time to really register what had happened to him.

 _I had a heart attack._


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Tony hurried into the hospital and found the ER. He'd got lost while driving over and then he'd gone in the wrong entrance to the hospital and couldn't find where he was going. All in all, it wasn't his best moment, although he could admit that he _was_ a little distracted. He had told Gibbs about what happened, and even then, he still was a bit unbelieving that it could really be that Tim had suffered a heart attack. It just didn't make sense.

Still, he found a nurse to ask where to find Tim.

"My friend should be here somewhere. He was having a...a heart attack or something," he said.

"What's his name?"

"Tim McGee."

The nurse checked a computer.

"It looks like he's been moved to a room. You can visit. He'll probably be happy to have a visitor."

"Maybe not me," Tony said with a grin, mostly relief now that he knew Tim was alive. "Was it really a heart attack?"

"Seems to be. They have more testing scheduled."

Tony got the room number and found it. He knocked softly. There was no response, so he went in anyway.

Tim seemed to be asleep. He had an IV and a heart monitor and was obviously still getting extra oxygen. Beyond all that, he looked worn out, even in sleep. Whatever it had been, it had been rough.

"Tim?" he called softly, unsure of whether or not he should be waking Tim up.

But if Tim had been sleeping, he hadn't been sleeping very deeply because his eyes opened.

"Hey, Tony," he said, sounding very weak. "How long...have you been here?"

"Just got here."

"Oh..." He took a slow, deep breath. "How long have _I_ been here?"

"Couple of hours."

"Oh."

"How are you feeling?"

"Like I got run over by a truck."

"You look like it...well, except for the lack of cuts and scrapes and broken bones and stuff."

Tim smiled, not that it made him look any stronger. It didn't last long. Maybe it took too much effort.

"Man, Tony. I don't think I've ever felt anything like that. I don't feel all that great, now."

"Was it a heart attack, then?"

"I guess so. If it was, I don't think they know why it happened, though. Cheree said they'd be coming to ask me questions at some point, but I haven't seen anyone."

"Maybe they're giving you a chance to catch your breath."

"Maybe. Did you call... Gibbs?"

"Of course. I had to tell him why I was leaving the stakeout, but he made me stay until our replacements got there. It would only have been another hour."

Tim grimaced.

"He's going to kill me."

Tony smiled. "I doubt it. I think near-death experiences are justification for leaving work."

"Maybe I'll let you tell him that I won't be back at work for a couple of days."

"A couple of days? You're out of your mind. If you had a heart attack, it'll be more than a couple of days."

Tim sighed. "You're probably right."

The door opened suddenly and a nurse came in. She smiled at Tony and then looked at Tim.

"All right, Tim, I told you we'd be needing to ask you some more questions."

Tim nodded. "Oh...Cheree, this is Tony. He was...with me before."

"Tony. You called it in?"

"Yeah. I think he was just trying to get out of work early."

"I'd take work...over this," Tim said. "Even if I had to muck out a stable."

"I'll remember that if it ever comes up, McGee."

"I need to ask you health questions. Would you like some privacy?" Cheree asked, glancing at Tony.

Tim shook his head.

"Okay. Just answer them as honestly as possible. It will help us figure out why this happened."

"Okay."

"First, do you have any history of heart problems in your family?"

Tim shook his head. "Not as far as I know."

"Have you ever had any heart problems?"

"No."

"Was the onset of this event sudden?"

"Well...the pain sure was."

"What about before that?"

Tim shrugged. "I'd been feeling pretty crappy for hours, but we were on a stakeout and had been for days. It was the overnight shift and we were both tired of it. I just thought it was because of that."

Tony was surprised that Tim said he'd been feeling bad before the actual attack. He hadn't acted like it. ...or was that what all the fidgeting had been about? If so, Tony felt pretty bad that he'd been so irritated.

"Describe how you were feeling."

"Uncomfortable. Tired. Things didn't...feel right. It was getting to the point that I felt...anxious, but it wasn't until I got out of the car that I started getting that...tight feeling and then, the pain."

"So you weren't engaging in any physical activity?"

"No. I'd just been sitting around. All night long. It was boring, not exciting."

There was a furrow on Cheree's forehead for a few seconds as she took note of what Tim said.

"Okay. Based on what you told me, Tim, you're very lucky."

"Why?"

"Because depending on what the ultimate cause was, you may have been suffering from the heart attack before you felt the pain. It just was building up gradually."

Tim blinked in surprise. "But I didn't feel any chest pain until...right before Tony called for help."

"Heart attacks aren't always that way. Sometimes, the pain won't even be bad at all. People will have a heart attack and not even know it until the damage is permanent."

"Is that..."

"We won't know until we get in there and see what's going on. You got here very quickly from the time you had the chest pain. Give us a chance to figure these things out. I'm going to give all this to Dr. Dayley and he'll probably schedule an angiogram to get a look at the arteries around your heart."

"Okay."

"Remember, if you have any pain, call for help. Don't try to tough it out."

"Right."

Cheree left.

"I don't feel...any better," Tim said.

"I wouldn't, either, but it looks like you'll be here for a while."

"Yeah." Tim looked around the room and then at Tony. "Hey...do you have to...go back to...work?"

"Well, I might have told Gibbs that I needed the day off," Tony said.

Tim smiled that weak smile again. "Then, would you mind...sticking around for a while?"

"Not a bit, Probie. As long as I can turn on the TV."

"Go ahead."

"Excellent. We'll see if they have any channels worth watching."

Tim just lay back and closed his eyes again. Tony figured that Tim was feeling a little nervous about what had happened. If having someone around would help, Tony was willing to do it. Besides, it made Tony feel a little better seeing that Tim was still alive after all that.

 _Every 44 seconds...within 15 minutes...as little as 5 minutes...100 beats per minute...At least 60 minutes..._

Tim came awake with a start, not knowing how long he'd slept, but knowing why he was awake...because he was feeling that chest pain. He panicked.

"Help," he whispered. He still didn't feel like he could talk loudly. Too much energy required.

"What is it, Tim? Pain again?"

Tim looked at Tony and nodded. Thankfully, Tony didn't act panicked himself. He just called for help.

The strange thing was, though, that the pain started to ebb even as the nurse came into the room.

"It's going away," he said.

"Chest pain?" she asked.

He nodded. "But it's going away already. Could it be another...heart attack?"

"Probably not." She looked at the ECG and there was another perplexed expression. "Is the pain still lessening?"

Tim nodded. There was still that not-right feeling, but the pain itself was almost gone.

"I'm going to get Dr. Dayley right now and he'll be able to tell you more."

She hurried out of the room. Tim looked after her and then at Tony.

"Is it really going away?" Tony asked.

Tim nodded. "It's almost completely gone, now."

"I think you may have stumped them."

"I wish I hadn't. If I have to go through this, I'd like them to know what it is."

"They'll figure it out. They're heart doctors. They've got to."

"Yeah, I guess." Tim hated the feeling that he was dealing with something they didn't know. It only made him feel worse, and since he already felt bad as it was, this was not a feeling he wanted to keep having. He stared down at his hands.

Then, he was surprised to feel a hand on his shoulder. He looked up again and saw Tony.

"Hey, don't worry," he said. "They'll figure it out and they'll get you better and everything will be fine."

"At least when Ducky had _his_ heart attack, they knew why and they knew what to do."

"They'll know what to do here, too. You're just special and it takes time."

Tim shook his head, but he liked having Tony there to be encouraging because he knew that he'd be close to freaking out if he was here alone.

The door opened admitting Dr. Dayley. Tim looked at him, hoping he didn't seem too pitiful.

"I understand you had an episode of angina, Agent McGee?" he asked.

"Angina?"

"Chest pain."

"Oh. Yes."

"Just a few minutes?"

Tim nodded.

"Do you know what's wrong with me?" he asked.

"I have some suspicions."

"What?"

"I think you may have had a coronary artery spasm."

"What does _that_ mean?" Tony asked.

Dr. Dayley looked at both of them, including Tim in his answer to Tony's question. "It means that, for some reason, one or more of the coronary arteries, the ones going into your heart, spontaneously collapsed, temporarily cutting off blood flow to your heart. They're usually coincident with coronary artery disease, and the one you had first triggered the heart attack. This would explain your ECG readings when you were brought into the ER. It would also explain why your ECG showed no changed readings during this last episode. It also explains the situation in which the angina occurred, that you were at rest rather than engaged in physical exertion. However, we can't know for sure without more tests."

"How do you do that?"

"It's very similar to a regular angiogram, only we inject a drug called ergonovine into your system. It will trigger a coronary artery spasm and then, we stop the spasm. The readings we get will tell us what we need to know."

"I have to have another one?" Tim asked.

"Yes."

"Can't you do something else?" Tony asked.

"We can try different procedures. Some are non-invasive, but the only way to be really sure is to see what happens during an attack, and the only way to do that is to know when one will be coming. While it is unpleasant for you, it's quite safe."

"When would this happen?"

"Not today," Dr. Dayley said. "We're going to wait for the results of the other tests to come back and we'll see if I'm right and they won't be conclusive. If that's the case, then, tomorrow, we'll set up the test and see what there is to see."

"If you're right...why wouldn't I have had anything like this before?"

"You probably have had the spasms before. You just didn't feel them."

"But...this was really painful. How could I not have felt that?"

"They're not always. It depends on how long the spasm lasts and how much damage, if any, is done. If it's a short spasm, then, you may feel some discomfort, but nothing more than that and the damage would be minor and easily healed. Also, this type of spasm normally happens during the night. You might have had them while you were sleeping. You may even have been disturbed by them but, by the time you were fully awake, it was over, and you never realized it had happened."

Tim was finding all this hard to accept. He couldn't even fathom the idea that he'd been in such danger for who knew how long and it only came out like this, now.

"What will this mean?"

Dr. Dayley smiled. "Let's take this one step at a time, all right? For now, Agent McGee, you just need to rest. There will be someone on hand in case you need anything and if you have another episode, we'll help you through it. You've been through a lot today. Just relax as much as you can."

"But is this something I'm going to have to worry about for the rest of my life? Am I going to have another heart attack?" Tim didn't see how he could possibly relax or rest with this hanging over him.

Dr. Dayley had been turning to leave, but he turned back and Tim finally felt like he was truly paying attention.

"Agent McGee, _if_ you are given the diagnosis of coronary artery spasm, there will be some changes you have to make. You'll likely have to take a long-term medication and there may be some lifestyle changes required, _but_ I want to emphasize one thing. This is far from a death sentence diagnosis. Long-term prognoses for people with this disorder is good. What happened here is an extreme result and it's frightening, I know, but you will still have a normal life and you don't have to worry about another heart attack happening at any moment. The risk is there, but it's low. Once we figure out just what happened, we can help you manage your pain and, hopefully, prevent a recurrence. That's why I'm telling you to relax. This is not a case of us having no idea what's wrong. It's just a matter of ruling out other diagnoses first...to make sure we get it right. Okay?"

Tim smiled, feeling a little foolish, but he nodded.

"Okay."

"Don't worry, Agent McGee, and keep asking questions if you have them. It's important for you to feel comfortable enough to do so."

Dr. Dayley left, and Tim slumped back on the bed, feeling stupid and scared and sick.

Tony sat down by the bed.

"What's up?"

Tim sighed. "It was just a few minutes, Tony. That's all. A few minutes and I could have _died_! What if that had happened when no one was around? What if I'd had this happen at home when I was alone?" He sat up and looked at Tony. "Even worse, what if it had happened when we were in the middle of a firefight? What if I'd had a heart attack when we were going after Ari? What would have happened, then?"

Tony pushed him back against the mattress. "Hey, don't start thinking about all that stuff. You're supposed to _relax_ , remember?"

"How can I? I almost died! How can I relax when something I have no control over almost killed me?"

"Hey! Stop that! Focus on the _almost_ part, not the _die_ part."

Tim managed to smile a little, but it was tremulous at best.

"You'll have more visitors coming in a few hours," Tony said. "They'll help you cheer up, and all you need to do is relax and let the people here take care of you. They know what they're doing, Tim. You'll be okay."

Tim took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He felt so tired, but he was scared, too. Maybe Tony could tell because he just went back to the chair by the TV and sat down again.

"I'll stick around. If something happens again, you won't be alone to feel it. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Good. Now, if you'll go back to sleep like I can see you need to, I can get back to watching something thrilling on the Cooking Channel."

Tim laughed softly, feeling a little better with Tony's encouragement. He leaned back against the bed and tried to relax. He could hear some cooking show going on and that helped him relax even more, thinking about Tony suffering through something so dull. Eventually, he fell asleep.

 _Every 44 seconds...within 15 minutes...as little as 5 minutes...100 beats per minute...At least 60 minutes..._

Tony sat, watching the TV for the next few hours. He fielded a number of texts from Abby, insisting that Tony give her a blow-by-blow account of what Tim was doing, even though he was just sleeping. Because she was out of town at a forensics conference, she wouldn't be able to visit right away and Tony had to deal with her desire for information since he was the only one here.

Mostly, though, he was just trying to stay calm about the whole thing, since Tim was obviously frightened by it...with good reason. He left a couple of times to get something to eat, and Tim never seemed to stir. The only reason Tony didn't panic about that was because he didn't see anything wonky with the heart monitor.

Finally, around six in the evening, when Tony was going a little stir crazy from being in the hospital room all day long, the door opened and Gibbs and Ducky came in.

"How is he?" Ducky asked, keeping his voice low to avoid disturbing Tim's rest.

"He's been sleeping for hours," Tony said.

"Do they know what happened?" Gibbs asked.

"Not yet, but the doctor was here earlier and he said that he thought Tim had a coronary artery spasm. They're going to do some test to confirm it, tomorrow. You know anything about that, Ducky?" Tony asked.

Ducky shook his head. "Only the very basics. It leads to an uncommon form of angina, and it only rarely leads to a heart attack. If that's the diagnosis, I'm afraid Timothy has been unlucky in this case."

"Figures. He always has to be different."

"Who's there?" Tim mumbled, his eyes opening slowly.

"Gibbs and Ducky," Tony said. "Told you that you'd have visitors."

"Yeah. Great."

Tim didn't sound too thrilled, although it was easy to see why that might be. But Tim sat up and looked at them both.

"Hi."

"Timothy, I'm sorry for what happened."

"Me, too," Tim said. "It pretty much sucks."

Tony saw Tim's discomfort and he had the sudden thought that Ducky was the person Tim should talk to. Ducky had a heart attack. He'd know how all this felt...well, more than anyone else would.

"Hey, now that we've got visitors, I'm going to go and scout out some coffee. Boss, you want some?"

Not very subtle, but he figured Gibbs would figure it out.

...and he did.

"Sure. Duck?"

Ducky smiled. Probably everyone knew what Tony was doing, maybe even Tim.

"I'll stay and have a chat with Timothy."

"Okay."

Tony and Gibbs left the room. As soon as they were in the hall, Gibbs stopped him.

"How is he?"

"He seems okay...for someone who had a heart attack. It seems impossible that he could. I mean, we were just sitting there, Boss. He wasn't doing anything, but he told the doctor that he'd been feeling not right for a while before that. He just didn't think to say anything. I don't know what that will mean. I don't know how long it'll take him to get better. I don't know if he _will_. It's just... Tim said it himself. It was just a matter of minutes. He could have died."

"How are you?"

"Tired," Tony admitted. "I was planning on sleeping this morning after we were relieved. I just haven't been able to sleep. Tim's been pretty freaked out about it."

"You ready to go home, then?"

Tony smiled. "A little...but I don't want Tim feeling like I've abandoned him."

"He won't. Someone will be here."

"So I can go home and sleep?" That sounded wonderful.

"Yeah."

Tony sighed with relief. He wanted to be there to support Tim while he needed it, but he was tired, too, and he knew that Tim wouldn't make him stay. It was just that he knew that Tim was still afraid of what had happened.

"In that case, I'm not getting any coffee."

"I am," Gibbs said.

So they kept walking.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Well, Timothy," Ducky said with a smile. "After that clumsy attempt to leave us alone, would you mind having a chat?"

Tim smiled back. "I guess not. As long as I don't have to shout or anything. I still feel really terrible."

"To be expected. Speaking from personal experience, a heart attack takes it out of you."

"Yeah."

"How are you feeling, now?"

"Tired. Stupid."

"Stupid? Whatever for?"

"I don't know. I just... I don't know."

Ducky patted his hand.

"Timothy, I understand, as much as one can, what you went through. A heart attack is not something you choose. You live a healthy lifestyle, not perfect, of course, but who is. This is not something you could have prevented, it sounds like. Why would you feel stupid?"

Tim felt his throat tighten and he took a breath.

"I'm scared," he whispered and closed his eyes.

He felt Ducky's hand on his arm.

"Timothy, that's normal. It's a logical reaction. If you _weren't_ scared, at least a little bit, I would worry. This was a serious event and it will take time for you to adjust to it, mentally."

Tim forced himself to open his eyes and look at Ducky. He smiled a little.

"Any suggestions?"

"Be willing to talk about how you feel. You'll likely get frustrated, get angry and you may take it out on those you care about because they're there. Remember that, however clumsy we might be, it is because we care about you. If you can keep that in mind..." He smiled sheepishly. "...you'll have a lot less apologizing to do, later."

"How long did it take you to feel normal again?" Tim asked.

"A few months, but you are much younger than I, and I have every expectation that you'll recover more quickly."

"I just can't believe this happened. I'm not old. I'm not sick... I shouldn't have had to worry about something like this."

"Yes, I agree. It's unfair and it seems strange, but since it _has_ happened, you can't do anything about that part of it. The best thing is to look forward, not back."

Tim nodded.

"Easier said than done, I know."

Tim nodded again.

The door opened and Gibbs came in with a cup of coffee. Tim looked behind him and didn't see Tony, but he didn't feel like he could ask. So he said nothing.

But Gibbs displayed his usual omniscience.

"Tony went home to get some sleep."

"Oh. He didn't have to stay here all day," Tim said, feeling a little guilty for keeping Tony at the hospital. "I slept. He could have. I just...I asked him if..."

"It's fine. He'll probably come back tomorrow."

"Oh."

Tim felt awkward, all of a sudden. Maybe it was because he was lying in a hospital bed, weaker than a baby while two men, both of whom were old enough to be his father (or older), were sitting there hale and hearty as anything.

"You guys don't have to stay here...if you don't want to," he said. "I don't need a...someone to hold my hand or anything."

It was true, although Tim did want someone there in case it happened again, even though he was in a hospital, with a heart monitor and a call button and there was no reason to expect anything to happen right at that moment...but he also couldn't forget what Dr. Dayley had said about the spasms happening during the night and he was terrified of feeling that again.

Before anyone could reply, the door opened once more, revealing one of the catering staff.

"Hello, Mr. McGee. It's dinnertime, and I know it's not the best food in the world, but you need it; so it's important that you eat, even if you don't feel like it."

This wasn't someone he had seen before, but he just nodded and let the man put a tray in front of him.

"I'll come back to pick up the tray in a while. If you finish before then, just set it to the side. Enjoy!"

Then, he was gone.

Tim looked at the tray and grimaced. It wasn't horrendous, but it wasn't really appetizing to look at, and he didn't feel very hungry.

"He is right, Timothy. You should try to eat some of it."

Tim sighed and nodded. "Okay."

He started eating and wasn't much impressed, but he kept at it. Ducky and Gibbs started chatting. After a while, Jimmy came to visit for a few minutes before heading home and he livened things up a little bit. Nurses came in, periodically, to check on him and take some readings, but it wasn't until later in the evening that Dr. Dayley came back.

He looked around the room and noticed the new faces.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Dayley, the cardiologist in charge of Agent McGee's care."

"Dr. Mallard. I work with Timothy," Ducky said.

"Gibbs," Gibbs said, shaking Dr. Dayley's hand.

"He's my boss," Tim said.

"How are you feeling?" Dr. Dayley asked.

"About the same."

"To be expected. We got the results back from your blood tests and, as I suspected, they aren't conclusive. The ECG readings are as well. So tomorrow morning, we'll get you set up for the coronary angiography with provocative testing."

"What will happen?" Tim asked, still hating the idea of having a spasm that was intentionally triggered.

"What we do is inject a special dye into your blood vessels, using a catheter. That allows us to see what will happen to your coronary arteries and the plaque buildup in them. Then, we'll inject a drug that should cause a spasm. That will let us see what's going on in and around your heart."

"Could it make me have another heart attack, though?"

"It's possible, but it's extremely unlikely. In fact, it's never happened at this hospital. You might feel some chest pain or nausea, but we don't need to let the spasm progress. We'll treat it quickly."

Tim nodded, reluctantly.

"Okay."

"It will take a couple of hours to do all the prep and the test itself, but once we get that done, we'll know what steps to take next. This is a good thing, Agent McGee. At this point, the best thing to do is find out what happened, and we'll do that, tomorrow."

"Okay." Tim took a breath and tried to dispel the heavy weight in his stomach.

He barely noticed Gibbs following Dr. Dayley out of the room.

"Timothy?"

"Yeah?"

"It will be all right."

"Maybe it won't," Tim said. He wouldn't look at Ducky. He just stared at the heart monitor, tracking that vital organ that had stopped working right. "Maybe it won't, Ducky. Maybe this will mean that everything has to change. I don't want to go through this again. Never."

"Timothy, look at me."

Tim wouldn't. For some reason, he couldn't stop staring at the monitor, the little regular blips that indicated all was working right. What if that changed again? What if he didn't even know it and it stopped working right and he died? It was strangely hypnotic, watching those little blips. He had no idea what they all meant. They were just up and down, up and down. A big blip, little blips. He had no idea if he was looking at something that meant he was going to die. He'd have no idea if it came down to reading his own ECG.

"Timothy."

"That's my heart, Ducky. I never really thought about it, before. It's my heart beating. It speeds up and slows down, but it always does its job. Until now. Now, it's not working right, and I can't do anything about it...but it's all I can think about."

"Timothy, please, stop looking there."

Tim swallowed hard and put his hand over his heart.

"I'm so scared, Ducky. I'm terrified that my heart is going to stop."

"It's not. Don't let yourself fall into that trap, Timothy. I know it's there. I know it's hard to stop thinking about it, but you need to try to pull yourself away from it."

Ducky put his hand over Tim's, finally drawing his attention away from the monitor. He looked at Ducky's hand.

"Ducky, how did you not feel like this?" he asked.

"I did," Ducky said. "Believe me. It was not easy for me to accept it, not even at my age. It was very difficult and I was not a good patient...but doctors never are."

Tim smiled tremulously.

"I guess."

"It _will_ be all right, Timothy. I'm not just saying that. Your doctor seems very sure about what they'll find tomorrow. If he's right, then, your life will continue, probably very close to as it's been. Some modification will be necessary, but you are not losing your life, not in any form."

Ducky patted Tim's hand and sat back. Tim still felt scared, but it wasn't quite as intense as it had been.

"Thanks, Ducky," Tim said.

"My pleasure. Know that you can talk to me any time that you need to. Please, allow me to help you in that way."

"Okay."

"Now, I believe that Jethro is probably asking whether or not someone can stay with you tonight."

"Oh...you don't have to do that," Tim said. "I'll be okay."

"Yes, you will," Ducky said, with a smile. "But that doesn't mean that you have to be okay all alone...unless you _want_ to be that way."

Tim looked down. He was embarrassed by how much he did _not_ want to be alone. He wanted someone there to give him support if something else happened.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of. The only reason I didn't ask for that is because I was mostly unconscious at the time."

Tim laughed weakly.

The door opened and Gibbs came back in.

"You want company tonight?" he asked.

Tim looked Ducky who nodded encouragingly. Then, he looked back at Gibbs.

"Yeah."

"Okay. You've got it."

"Thanks, Boss," Tim said, mostly mumbling.

Gibbs smiled knowingly, but he didn't say anything about Tim's obvious embarrassment.

"I have to get home, Timothy, but remember what I said to you. Call me if you need a sympathetic ear."

"Thanks, Ducky."

Ducky stood up and patted Tim on the shoulder. Tim watched him leave. He was a little envious. He didn't feel like he could do _anything_ beyond lay on this bed. He felt so weak that even talking was tiring. In fact, he was feeling ready to sleep again. He looked around the room, trying not to make eye contact with Gibbs, but that couldn't last. There was a chair that pulled out into a cot beside his bed. Gibbs sat down on it and stared at him. Tim suddenly felt like he had to apologize.

"I'm sorry, Boss."

"For what?" Gibbs asked.

"Bad timing?" Tim suggested.

Gibbs raised his eyebrow, and Tim knew that it was a silly thing to say. He just felt like he'd done something wrong.

"If I find out that you intentionally had a heart attack during a stakeout, then, you can apologize. Otherwise, don't bother."

"Sorry," Tim muttered and looked down.

"Tim?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad you survived it."

That was positively mushy for _Gibbs_. Tim looked up again in surprise.

"You never can guess who it's going to happen to," he said.

"I wouldn't have guessed me."

Gibbs smiled a little. "I wouldn't, either."

"You sure you don't mind being here all night?"

"Wouldn't have offered if I did."

Tim knew that was a lie. If Gibbs decided it was necessary, he wouldn't care about whether or not he _wanted_ to be there. He would do it, anyway. Still, it was a nice sentiment.

"Go to sleep, Tim. I'll be here."

Tim smiled. "Thanks, Boss."

Then, he leaned back and tried to relax, tried not to think about all the reasons he had to be upset and worried, tried to let himself be tired.

 _Every 44 seconds...within 15 minutes...as little as 5 minutes...100 beats per minute...At least 60 minutes..._

Gibbs watched as Tim finally relaxed into true sleep. He didn't blame him for being so worried, not in the least. Tim having a heart attack was extremely out of place as far as Gibbs was concerned. Sure, in his first years, Tim had been out of shape, not in peak physical condition, but that hadn't been the case for years. It made no sense for him to be like this now. As it was, Gibbs was just glad that Tim had survived it. Maybe Tim was surprised by the sentiment, but from Gibbs' perspective, it was wrong for someone to die like that, even if many thousands had done it before. Tim deserved to live a long and happy life, not one cut short by a heart attack.

He sat there for a few hours, dozing off and on (the cot wasn't particularly comfortable and a nurse came in a few times to check on Tim), and then was surprised by the door opening...but he was _not_ surprised by who it was.

"Hey, Boss," Tony whispered. "Figured I could sleep just as well here as at home."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow at that obvious lie. Tony smiled.

"Okay, I could sleep better at home, but I wanted to be here."

"You sleep?"

"Yeah. Not really tired, now."

Tony visibly hesitated and then looked over at Tim. Gibbs followed his gaze. Tim still looked weak, even in sleep. The heart monitor looked normal. There was a soft sound, indicating the continuing flow of oxygen through the nasal cannula. But Tim was still so pale and he just seemed deflated.

"He's going to be fine, DiNozzo," Gibbs said, softly.

"What if he's not, though, Boss?" Tony asked. "What about coming back to work? Sometimes, people don't get better from this kind of thing. Sometimes, the damage is permanent and it doesn't heal. I told him that he'd be fine, but I could be lying. So could you."

It was all true, Gibbs knew. There was no way to tell, at this point, whether or not Tim would fully recover from this heart attack. Sometimes, people didn't. Sometimes, the damage was too much and their quality of life decreased considerably. Sometimes, they even died before being released from the hospital. Sometimes, they had a second heart attack and were unable to recover a second time. There were a lot of bad outcomes from this. At the same time, however, what point was there in laying all that out there? Tim would recover or not, but if he was constantly worrying about it, he'd be less likely to. So what other response could he make right now?

"He'll be fine," Gibbs said.

Tony looked like he wanted to argue, but he said nothing. Instead, he sat down in a chair and the silence descended again.

Tim didn't stir for another three hours, but around five in the morning, his eyes opened and he seemed uncertain of where he was. Tony had fallen asleep, but Gibbs moved over to the bed.

"Morning," he said. "How are you feeling?"

Tim's confusion quickly vanished and he looked frightened again. He tried to hide it, but he was afraid. Gibbs didn't blame him.

"Fine," he said softly. Then, he looked over at Tony. "When did he get here? What time is it?"

"He got here about two. It's about five."

"Oh."

Tim started rubbing at his chest.

"Does it hurt?" Gibbs asked, keeping his voice calm, even though the movement made him a little worried.

Tim shook his head. "No. It just doesn't feel right. It hasn't since...all this."

Then, suddenly, Tim's face started to crumple, just a little. He took a quick breath and let it out just as quickly. He closed his eyes.

"I'm okay," he said before Gibbs could ask.

One tear escaped his control. Just one, but Gibbs could see what was happening. Tim was freaking out a bit. Understandable, but it wasn't necessary. Knowing that it would be awkward, Gibbs sat on the bed beside Tim and put an arm around his shoulders.

"It's all right."

"S-Sorry," Tim whispered.

"It's all right," Gibbs said again.

While he'd never had a heart attack, Gibbs knew that the first morning after a terrible event was the worst, because you had to remember that it had happened all over again. Tim was going through that and he'd be okay again in a few minutes. He just needed the time to adjust to it.

"S-Sorry," Tim said again.

"It's all right. Just let it pass."

Gibbs didn't bother to say anything more. It wasn't about comforting. It was about giving Tim time. He needed a few minutes.

And after about five minutes, Tim tensed up a little, meaning that he'd realized that Gibbs was the person sitting next to him. Tim would never be one to feel comfortable with something like this, and unlike Tony who would accept it when he knew that he wasn't fooling anyone, Tim would resist it because he would feel that it wasn't right for him to need it. So Gibbs let go and sat back on the chair.

Tim had recovered enough from his shock that he looked a little embarrassed, but Gibbs didn't see any need to embarrass him more by talking about it.

"Are you feeling all right?"

Tim nodded.

"They're going to be doing that test today."

"Yep."

"I don't want it."

"Don't blame you."

Tim took another deep breath.

"That's what medicine seems to be a lot, you know."

"What do you mean?"

"We break things to put them back together again. When you have cancer, you have to have everything shut down so that nothing in your body works right, just for the chance that it'll kill the cancer cells. You break a bone and it has to be set back in place. We cut people open to fix something inside. ...and cause the same event that gave me a heart attack to make sure that's really what it was." Tim swallowed hard. "It's... I don't know. I just don't want it."

"You want to know how to fix it, don't you?"

"Yeah."

"This is what you have to do."

"I know."

"You'll get through it."

"I hope so."

"You will."

Tim nodded, but he still looked scared.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Ducky headed into the hospital, and was surprised to see Tony coming out.

"Anthony, you're here earlier than I expected."

"Yeah. Woke up in the night, couldn't sleep anymore. Decided to come here, instead. They've started that test thing and I couldn't stay in there. Gibbs had to get to work."

"Oh, yes. The angiogram."

"Yeah. Ducky, you know about this stuff, right?"

"I am somewhat familiar with it, yes."

Tony looked really worried.

"Is this going to be okay? Is it really necessary that they do this to Tim?"

Ducky smiled. "You know that every procedure involves some degree of risk, Anthony."

"It's not about risk, Ducky. It's about whether or not this is going to work out for him."

"I understand, but this test has been in use for over 40 years. I did some reading about it last night. Certainly, the first tries were not very successful, but since then, they have learned what works and what doesn't. They know the requirements and what is safe. No, they can't predict everything, but they can do a lot of good. Timothy won't enjoy this, but it will be for the best because it will give them a sure diagnosis. This test is the only way that we can do that. Some others have been tried, but their results are less certain and some are more dangerous."

Tony sighed. "I can't forget it, Ducky. It just changed so quickly. One minute, I was annoyed because Tim was bugging me. The next minute, he was dying."

"Yes. Life has a way of changing very quickly, and we're never ready for that."

"Yeah."

"It will be all right, Anthony. You kept Timothy alive and that is an admirable thing. It really is a matter of minutes. In fact, they speak of the Golden Hour for treatment. If help comes in that first hour, the person's chances for survival increase dramatically, but death can come in as little as five minutes if the attack is severe enough, especially if it leads to cardiac arrest."

Tony grimaced. Ducky supposed that statistics weren't the best way to convince Tony that Tim would be all right.

"Have you had lunch, Anthony?"

"No. It's a little early for that."

"Then, since neither of us can see Timothy at the moment, let's get something to eat. I am only staying long enough to look in on him when I can. Then, I'll have to get back to work."

"Yeah, with Bishop taking some time off, I should probably go back, too, but I don't want to leave Tim alone while he doesn't know what's going on."

"We'll manage. Sometimes, there are places we have to be that have nothing to do with our jobs. Come. I'll even pay for lunch."

Tony nodded.

"Okay."

 _Every 44 seconds...within 15 minutes...as little as 5 minutes...100 beats per minute...At least 60 minutes..._

Tim tried to relax as he lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Besides the heart attack itself, that might have been the most unpleasant two hours he'd ever spent. The spasm itself had been short, but he'd felt uncomfortable the whole time. The positions had been awkward. The spasm had been painful, although not as painful as it had been before. Now, the test was over, but he felt nauseous. He'd already thrown up once and wanted to avoid a repeat. Louise, the nurse who had moved him back into his room, had been very nice to him. She had been on hand through the angiogram and kept him as calm as he could be.

"All right, Tim. I know that wasn't fun for you, but it's over now, and if you feel up to it, you can have something to eat?"

Tim shook his head firmly. He had no intention of eating for a while. Louise smiled sympathetically.

"Okay. I'm just going to stay here and make sure that you don't have any further side effects from the ergonovine. Let me know if you start feeling any other discomfort besides the nausea."

Tim nodded, but he didn't want to say anything while he felt so sick.

"You'll need to stay still, lying flat, for another few hours."

That sounded fine to Tim. He had no desire to move. Right now, he thought that he didn't want to move ever again, but he knew that it wouldn't last forever. However, this made two days that had been completely miserable for him. All in all, he wasn't enjoying this whole experience.

He heard the door open.

"Tim! You're done! Finally!"

Tim just swallowed and, thankfully, Louise spoke for him.

"He's not feeling very good right now. One of the side effects of the drug used in the test is nausea and vomiting, and he's had both. So he needs calm."

"Oh. Sorry."

"Also, he has to lay flat for another few hours to make sure that the catheter insertion site doesn't start bleeding again."

"Okay. How did it go?"

"It went fine. We won't have the results until sometime tomorrow, but while the side effects aren't pleasant, there hasn't been anything unexpected."

"Well, I guess that much is good."

Tim just lay there, not even turning his head.

"How long will he be feeling like this?"

"For a couple of hours, probably."

"Okay. Well, Tim, Ducky was going to wait and see how the test went, but it took longer than he expected and so he had to get back to work, but he told me to tell you that he'd be coming this evening."

Tim nodded, but didn't speak. He supposed that Ducky might have had an angiogram, but he likely hadn't had to deal with this part of it. He heard Tony settle down on a chair beside him, but he guessed that Tony couldn't think of anything to say for the moment, and Tim had no intention of speaking. He was just going to lay here and hope for the sick feeling to go away as soon as possible. After a while, he did relax enough that he fell asleep.

 _Every 44 seconds...within 15 minutes...as little as 5 minutes...100 beats per minute...At least 60 minutes..._

"Ah, good," Louise said as Tim's eyes closed and he fell asleep. "I was hoping that he'd get to this point."

"He's asleep?" Tony asked.

"Yes. He should be all right. It's been a rough day, but he'll start feeling better."

"Will he keep having these spasms?"

"Once we confirm that's what happened, there's medication that can control them. It's not a cure, but it can keep it from being a worry."

"So he'll be back to normal?" Tony asked.

"Maybe not completely, but he'll be better."

Tony sighed. "Always the qualifier."

"It's important not to make promises we can't necessarily keep."

"Yeah, you don't want to get sued," Tony muttered.

"No. That's not it. Well, I'm sure it is for some, but it's because this is a serious disorder and when you know all the risks involved, you can really appreciate what you have and stop regretting what you don't."

Tony wanted to be irritated, but he couldn't. He gave a half smile.

"Well-played."

Louise smiled and patted his shoulder.

"I need to step out for a bit. He should just sleep, but if there is anything that makes you think something might be wrong, call us right away. Don't delay, even if you think it's probably nothing. There shouldn't be any risk at this point, but because he did have a heart attack, there's just enough uncertainty that we don't want to leave him alone until we're sure."

"Okay."

Tony felt very nervous at that warning, but Louise left and Tony looked at Tim as he slept.

"Okay, Tim. No more crises," he said softly. "I'm not in the mood. So you just keep sleeping and nothing else."

Tim just slept.

Tony watched him sleep, wondering anew how this could have happened. Another hour passed and Tim took a breath and opened his eyes.

"Hey, Tim. Are you feeling any better?"

Tim swallowed and clearly considered it.

"Yeah, a bit," he said, almost whispering. "I think I'll stay where I am for now, though."

"Okay. That's fine with me. You thirsty?"

"Yeah."

Tony saw a cup of water with a straw and a lid. He reached over and helped Tim get a drink without choking on it. Thankfully, he didn't seem to have any trouble with that. In fact, he finished most of the water in the cup.

"Better?"

"Yeah."

"Good. So was it as miserable as it looks like it was?"

"Yeah," Tim said again.

"Anything I can do?"

Tim turned his head a little so that he could look at Tony.

"You're doing what you can. Nothing else, right now."

"Okay."

Silence fell again.

"I wish there really was something I could do," Tony said.

Tim actually smiled.

"Me, too."

Tony laughed.

The door opened and Louise came back in.

"Is the nausea getting better, Tim?" she asked.

"A little bit, yeah."

"He drank some water," Tony said.

"Good. That will help get the dye out of your system more quickly. Are you ready to try eating something?"

"I don't know," Tim said. "I'm still a little...bleh."

"It's best to try it because you need the nutrition. It wouldn't be anything heavy or hard to digest. Are you willing to try it?"

"I guess so."

"Good. Just let me check the insertion site and make sure you're not having any bleeding there and we'll get you sitting up to make sure that you won't instantly start feeling the nausea again."

"Okay."

Tony stepped back and let Louise do her thing, trying to give Tim at least a little bit of privacy. Tim was able to sit up successfully, so Louise left to get some food sent into the room.

Tony was glad to be seeing Tim sitting instead lying flat on his back as he had been. It was too much like when he'd passed out from the heart attack. But he was still so pale and weak. Tony didn't want to comment on that, but it was hard seeing Tim so changed from how he'd been just a couple of days ago.

"I'm a little dizzy," Tim said, in that same quiet voice. "I've been on my back for too long."

Tony grinned. "Guess the sedentary life doesn't agree with you, then."

Tim smiled back. "No, I don't think it does."

Louise came back with a tray and urged Tim to try to eat. Not to rush, but to eat as much as he could handle. Tony sat back, hoping that Tim wouldn't start throwing up. It wasn't a pleasant thing to witness and he didn't want to see Tim having to deal with that in addition to everything else.

Tim picked at the food for about half an hour and only ate half of it, but it all stayed down and that was an achievement.

"I'll be sure to tell Abby that you're eating," Tony said. "She's been asking me to tell her everything."

Tim pushed the tray away.

"Don't tell her, but I'm almost glad she's gone. Can you imagine if she had been here yesterday? I probably would have had at least two more heart attacks just from her smothering me." The smile was weak, but Tony appreciated his attempt to joke.

"I can't imagine having Abby worried about me when she could actually get to me," Tony said. "She was nice enough to let me lay on Bert when I first came back, but other than that, she wasn't really around for my injuries."

"Well, she didn't care much about mine, but this would be me completely helpless and at her mercy. I don't know if she could resist trying to smother me."

Tony smiled at the description.

"She only couldn't do that to Gibbs because he was in a coma."

"I'm surprised she let _that_ stop her," Tim said.

They continued to talk (although Tony did most of the talking) and Tim seemed to relax as the time went on. Both Gibbs and Ducky came by again, and Tim talked with them a little more easily than he had the day before. Louise was in and out throughout the evening, checking on how Tim was feeling, checking the ECG, making sure Tim wasn't feeling anything out of the ordinary.

By eight, Tim was starting to droop and Tony could see that he was ready to sleep.

"Hey, Tim, do you want someone staying with you again tonight?"

"Yeah," Tim said. "If it's okay."

"Of course it's okay!" Tony said bracingly. "I had a great sleep last night and I've always wanted to try out those one-person fold-out chairs!"

"You're such a liar, Tony," Tim said, sounding weary, but smiling. "You don't want to sleep on that cot any more than Gibbs did last night."

Tony noticed that Gibbs didn't deny it.

"Okay, you're right. I'm lying." He hesitated. "...but I want to be here to see that you're okay."

"What if I'm not?" Tim asked. "What then?"

"Then, at least I'll be here to make sure that they get you taken care of."

"You sure you want to deal with that again?"

"Yes."

"Okay. I guess I'll let you stay, then."

Tony grinned at the way Tim phrased it.

"And I'll even let you watch TV if you want."

"Ah, more Cooking Channel."

"They have Lifetime, too," Tim said.

"Oh, joy. I'd rather watch Cupcake Wars, again."

Ducky chuckled. "I believe you could watch the Weather Channel as well, Anthony."

"You'd think they could get some good sports channels," Tony said, but at the same time, he knew that, even if there _was_ an ESPN channel, he wouldn't watch it. The last thing Tim needed right now was to have Tony get into a game and start shouting. Maybe he could find some old TV show or movie to watch once Tim was asleep.

"Well, I'm sorry, but I'm tired," Tim said. "This has been a pretty crappy day."

"Completely understandable," Ducky said. "You know that Abigail will be back in a couple of days."

"I know."

"Do you think you'll be ready for her?"

"No," Tim said. "Not if I feel like this."

"Well, we'll check on you before we let her descend," Ducky said. "That is one thing that you don't have to worry about."

"Good."

"Have a good night, Timothy," Ducky said. "Remember."

"I remember," Tim said. "Thanks for coming, guys. And thanks for staying, Tony."

"My pleasure," Tony said.

Then, Tim took another breath and closed his eyes. They didn't open again.

Ducky smiled and he and Gibbs left. Tony pulled out the chair into the cot and tested it out.

It wasn't particularly comfortable, but it was definitely tolerable. He turned on the TV, and turned down the volume.

Tim's eyes opened briefly.

"No worries, McGee. I'm just changing the station."

"Okay," Tim mumbled. His eyes slipped closed again.

Tony grinned and turned his attention back to the TV.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

There was a strange sound that penetrated his sleep. He wasn't sure what he was hearing, and it was so unfamiliar that it took some time to really get into his brain.

Then, he sat up on the cot and looked over to the bed.

Tim's eyes were open and he was breathing erratically, his hand over his heart.

Tony didn't bother pushing the call button. He jumped to his feet and ran out into the hall. There was a nurse just coming out of a room. He didn't recognize her, but he didn't care.

"Hey, my friend is having chest pain again. He had a heart attack two days ago."

The nurse came with him back into Tim's room.

"What's his name?"

"Tim."

"All right."

She went to the bed.

"Tim, you're having chest pains?"

"Y-Yes," Tim said.

"Okay." She checked his chart quickly. "Tim, try to breath normally if you can."

"Another heart attack?" Tony asked.

"I don't think so. Stay here with him. I'll be right back."

She was out of the room before Tony could say anything else. He went to the bed.

"You're going to be okay, Tim. You are. Just get through it."

"It...hurts...Tony..." Tim said.

"I know."

That was all he had time to say. The nurse was back with a doctor. She leaned over Tim.

"Tim, I'm Dr. Taylor. You're having another episode of chest pain?"

Tim nodded.

"Okay."

Tony watched as Dr. Taylor checked Tim's stats. He wanted to tell her to get on with it, but he managed to keep quiet while they were working.

"Tim, I need you to open your mouth. Don't try to swallow it. Just let it get absorbed."

Tim did as he was told and she sprayed something into his mouth. To Tony's surprise, Tim started to calm down very quickly.

"Is the pain lessening?" Dr. Taylor asked.

"Y-Yeah," Tim said. "What...What did you give me?"

"Nitroglycerin. It dilates the blood vessels. Since there's a very good chance that you have CAS, nitroglycerin helps get the arteries open again."

"It...worked really fast." Tim took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Yes. It needs to."

"Why is this happening?" Tim asked. "I never had any problems and this is...the third time in two days."

Dr. Taylor finished making notes on Tim's chart and then handed it to the nurse.

"If Dr. Dayley diagnoses CAS, and he'll let you know for sure in the morning, probably, then, you should know that it has something else attached to it. It's called Prinzmetal's angina or variant angina. It's an unstable angina that is hard to predict. The causes of CAS are not well understood, but there will be clusters of episodes that happen frequently for a few months and then you might go weeks or months without having even one. So the fact that you're having these episodes frequently now makes sense. How long this period will last is hard to say. The only factor we're positive has an impact is whether or not the patient smokes."

"I don't. Never have."

"Exactly," Dr. Taylor said. "We know that it has an impact, but it's clearly not the cause."

"Oh. What now?"

"Is the pain gone?"

Tim nodded.

"Good. We'll give you a thorough check and then, you can try to get back to sleep."

Tim swallowed and Tony could see that the idea wasn't exactly appealing. He reached out for his cup of water and Tony could see his hands shaking. He got a drink and let Dr. Taylor look him over.

"Now, I know that this isn't an easy thing for you, right now, but if you can, you should relax and try to sleep. Stress has been known to aggravate angina."

Tim let out a breathy laugh. It wasn't because he thought that was funny.

"Yeah, what do I have to be stressed about?"

"I understand that, Tim, but it really will help if you can relax."

"I'll help you relax, Tim," Tony said. "You know that I'm good at being distracting."

"A-Aggravating, maybe," Tim said, but he smiled a little as he said it.

Dr. Taylor smiled. "If you can sleep that's better, but distractions will be better than being tense."

After they finished their work, the nurse and Dr. Taylor left the room. It hadn't been very long, but it felt like forever.

"I hate this, Tony," Tim said. "It feels like it could happen at any moment."

"Yeah, it really does suck."

"And it doesn't seem to matter what I'm doing. I was asleep!"

"I'm sorry, Tim."

"Me, too."

"Okay, the question, since you're clearly not going to go back to sleep for a while, is what we're going to do instead."

"You don't have to stay up."

Tony let out an incredulous laugh. "Tim, I know that I'm not the one dealing with the pain, but do you really think that I have any desire to go to sleep right now?"

Tim looked away from him and shrugged.

"Well, if you do, let me tell you that this whole thing freaks me out, and I don't want to go to sleep and wake up to find you died in the night. If you're not sleeping, I'm not sleeping. Got it?"

"Sorry," Tim said softly.

"Don't apologize."

"Sign of weakness," Tim said, looking at his heart monitor.

"No. You just don't need to. I'm here because I _want_ to be here and you can scoff at that all you want, but I want to know that you're okay, and I'll sleep on a pull-out cot if it means that I can see that you're okay. ...or not."

"Not, right now."

"I figured."

"Tony...I'm really scared."

Tim was still staring at the blips that indicated his heart was still beating. They looked normal.

"So am I," Tony said softly.

Tim looked away from the monitor and at Tony.

"I still can't feel tired."

"Then, we'll do whatever you want to do."

"I don't know. I just want to have all this go away."

"It won't."

"I know that, too."

"What do you want to do, then?"

"I don't know," Tim said and sighed.

"Then, how about TV?"

"Sure. Why not."

"Okay." Tony turned on the TV, knowing that this wasn't the best idea but unable to think of anything better.

Quite a few of the stations were off the air or just showing infomercials. Tony wasn't sure if he should try to find something interesting.

"Not much on at this time of night," Tim said softly.

"Nope."

"Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"Turn off the TV."

Tony smiled. "Okay."

He tossed the remote onto the cot and turned back to Tim. He hated seeing Tim this way, so weak and defeated, taken down by something he couldn't control. All he wanted was to know that they were going to treat Tim's problem and keep this from happening again. ...and right now, that was exactly what they _didn't_ have.

He cast around for something else to do when suddenly, he was hit with inspiration. He pulled out his phone and did a quick search, figuring that he wouldn't even have to pay for it.

"What are you doing, Tony?" Tim asked.

"It's a surprise. Give me a minute."

He glanced up and saw the typical confused expression on Tim's face and it gave him some hope. Even though Tim was pale and tense, he still was himself.

He looked back at his phone and grinned at his success.

"Okay, Tim, get yourself comfortable...or at least, as comfortable as you can be."

Tim's expression became quizzical.

"Just do it, Probie!"

"Okay."

Tim leaned the bed back a little bit, not quite lying down but not really sitting up.

"Ready?"

"Yeah. I don't know what I'm ready _for_ , though."

"Here we go." He looked down at his phone and began to read. "'Prologue: The Storming of Seringapatam, 1799. Extracted from a family paper.'"

"What are you–?"

"Shush," Tony said. "'I address these lines—written in India—to my relatives in England. My object is to explain the motive which has induced me to refuse the right hand of friendship to my cousin, John Herncastle. The reserve which I have hitherto maintained in this matter has been misinterpreted by members of my family whose good opinion I cannot consent to forfeit. I request them to suspend their decision until they have read my narrative. And I declare, on my word of honour, that what I am now about to write is, strictly and literally, the truth.'"

Tim didn't interrupt again. He smiled and listened as Tony read the beginning of _The Moonstone_ by Wilkie Collins. A phone screen wasn't the best medium for reading aloud, but Tony persevered. He probably wasn't the best reader, especially not of 19th-century prose. He tripped over some of the excessively formal phrases, but he kept on and Tim didn't criticize him. Tony wanted to give Tim something that would relax him, that would help him forget about his problems for a while, maybe even get him to sleep in spite of his fear. All in all, this seemed like a good option, and the smile didn't leave his face as he listened. He didn't interrupt. They didn't chat in between chapters or anything. Tony just kept reading and Tim kept listening.

It took more than an hour, but finally, Tim relaxed enough to sleep. Tony looked up at the end of the chapter and saw that Tim's eyes were closed and his breathing was even. Quietly, Tony sat down on the cot and stretched out to sleep. He was tired himself and the reading had helped _him_ relax as well.

The soft sounds of the hospital room weren't enough to keep him awake.

Tony slept.

 _Every 44 seconds...within 15 minutes...as little as 5 minutes...100 beats per minute...At least 60 minutes..._

Gibbs was glad to see both Tim _and_ Tony sleeping when he came back to the hospital early the next morning. Tony didn't look particularly comfortable, but he _was_ asleep. Tim looked about the same as he had the day before which wasn't very encouraging. Hopefully, Dr. Dayley would give the diagnosis today and they could start the process of healing rather than marking time, waiting and hoping for something to happen.

He set his coffee down on a table by the door and walked over to where Tony was sleeping on the cot. He shook him gently so as not to startle him and wake Tim.

Tony sat up quickly and instantly looked over at Tim in concern. Then, he relaxed and looked up at Gibbs.

"Hey, Boss," he said softly. "What time is it?"

"Just after six. You coming to work?"

Tony had the grace to look a little chagrined. He _should_ go back to work. Tim would be fine here. They would all visit. Sarah was on her way to see her brother. They hadn't managed to contact Delilah yet, but she would be here eventually, too. Tim would be okay.

But Gibbs could already see that Tony had no intention of going back to work yet. He didn't blame him for that. Tim and Tony were partners and friends. He'd take unpaid leave if he had to (and Gibbs had decided that he _wouldn't_ have to), but he wasn't going to leave Tim to face this alone.

"Dr. Dayley is supposedly going to tell Tim what's going on, this morning. I want to be here for that."

Gibbs just nodded.

"You should shower and get something to eat. I'll stay until you get back."

"You sure about that, Boss?"

"Go," Gibbs said, pointing at the door.

"Okay."

Tony left quickly and Gibbs knew that he'd take as little time as he possibly could in order to get back here. There was no need to wake Tim up. He just picked up his coffee and sat in a chair by the bed. Ducky had wanted to come first thing this morning as well, but he'd had a request to assist Metro with a case and Vance had encouraged the collaboration. Gibbs smiled a little to himself. With Abby due to return in a couple of days, he had decided to warn her in advance that she'd have to control herself and that Tim wasn't up to anything loud or overly enthusiastic. While she had claimed that she could easily dial it down, Gibbs had his doubts and had already planned on making sure Tim had backup when she arrived. In these first days, the last thing he wanted was to have Tim pushed into another coronary. He had no idea if that was even a possibility, but why take the risk when he could simply encourage Abby to act like an adult?

Tim suddenly inhaled sharply and his eyes opened. Gibbs was ready in case there was something else wrong, but after that first sound, Tim simply relaxed a little and stared at the ceiling. He hadn't even noticed the other occupant of the room, yet. He lay there, unmoving for a few seconds and then, he put his hand over his heart as he had the day before. Then, he looked over toward the heart monitor and saw his boss sitting there.

"Oh...Boss...I didn't..." Tim moved the bed up and looked around. "...where's Tony?"

"Went home to shower. Should be back soon."

"Oh."

"How are you feeling?"

"Crappy. I had another... they called it angina. They stopped it pretty quick, but it..." He hesitated, even though Gibbs knew what he was about to say. "...it scares me."

"It would scare anyone."

"Not as much as it's scaring me, I bet," Tim mumbled.

Gibbs smiled.

"I'll bet it would. You're just admitting it."

"I feel like I can't do anything, Boss," Tim said. "I feel weak and sick and scared."

"McGee, it's been two days. Did you really expect to be back to normal two days after a heart attack?"

"I've never thought about it before," Tim said. "It's just all so...so wrong."

"It is, but it'll take time. Look at Ducky. He's fine, now."

"Yeah," Tim said, nodding a little.

"You will be, too."

Tim nodded again, but he didn't meet Gibbs' eyes, and Gibbs knew that Tim wasn't really convinced, but in the moment, it was probably hard to accept. Still, it had only been two days. To think that there was something more wrong simply because he was still feeling terrible after two days was to have unrealistic expectations.

...not that it was a surprise. No one liked being weak or being _seen_ as weak.

"I won't be back at work for a while," Tim said softly.

"I know. Take your time."

"I hate that I have to."

"I know."

Tim looked up.

"I want this to be a nightmare that I can wake up from."

"It's not."

"Yeah."

"Tim, listen to me."

"Yeah?"

"You will be _fine_. You're not, now. I get that, but you _will_ be fine. You'll get better."

Tim just nodded this time, not speaking, and took a shaky breath.

Gibbs reached out and squeezed Tim's shoulder and then sat back and continued to sip at his coffee. Tim needed the encouragement. He was too likely to fall down into the doldrums. But he also needed time to let the ideas penetrate. Tim didn't change his viewpoint very easily.

Tim lay where he was for a while. He got breakfast that he picked at and didn't eat all of, but it was nice to see him eating something. That just seemed normal enough that it indicated recovery.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Tony got back just as Tim was finishing as much as he was willing to eat.

"Hey, anything from your doctor, yet?" he asked.

Tim shook his head.

"Nothing. I hope he comes soon," Tim said.

"Me, too."

Another period of silence. What more was there to say?

Before it got too awkward, though, the door opened again and Dr. Dayley finally showed up.

"Good morning. Agent McGee, I hear you had another episode during the night," Dr. Dayley said.

Tim nodded.

"Okay. We've got the results of your test and I've done some consultations with my colleagues and you're a rarer case."

"Oh. I wish I wasn't," Tim said.

Dr. Dayley smiled.

"It's not necessarily a bad thing, Agent McGee."

"You don't have to be so formal," Tim said.

"Okay. Tim?"

Tim nodded.

"As I suspected, you have coronary artery spasm. The reason this isn't usual is because, not only is CAS less common as a disorder, but you don't appear to have coronary artery disease. Most people diagnosed with CAS also have coronary artery disease, but the angiogram didn't show any significant buildup of plaque in your arteries. That means that your CAS is likely some kind of malfunction of your smooth muscle cells."

Gibbs watched as Tim tried to process what Dr. Dayley was telling him. He was quiet for a few seconds and then, he licked his lips and took a breath.

"So...what does this mean?"

"As far as your treatment goes, it doesn't change much. In a way, this is better simply because it means that you don't need surgery. However, it also means that we can't just cure your CAS with surgery, although that wouldn't necessarily fix everything anyway."

"So what _do_ you do about it, then?"

"What we're going to do is start you on a long-acting calcium antagonist. It will take some time to figure out which antagonist will work best and the correct dosage that is high enough to prevent the spasms but low enough to avoid the more serious side effects."

"Such as?"

"Lowered heart rate and blood pressure are the most common, along with peripheral edema...swelling in the extremities," Dr. Dayley said. "If we find that your CAS is a drug refractory type, meaning that it does not respond to calcium antagonists, we'll have to investigate other options. However, that type is only seen in about 20 percent of patients, and there are other ways of dealing with it. We'll cross that bridge if we come to it. For now, what you need to know is that the calcium antagonists are going to be an important part of your treatment. There is no cure for CAS at this point, mostly due to the fact that we don't know what causes it. You'll be on the calcium antagonist for the long term."

"The rest of my life?"

"Very likely, given our current understanding. That doesn't mean we won't _ever_ find a cure, but right now, you'll have to depend on medication."

Tim nodded, and Gibbs knew that he wasn't seeing that as a good thing. Instead, this was just an indication that things could never be normal again.

"What about going back to his job?" Gibbs asked, hoping for a positive answer.

"Well, one thing in Tim's favor is that this is not a case of multivessel CAS. Only one of the arteries is spasming. We're not sure why it was so extreme as to cause a heart attack in this case, but getting you on the calcium antagonist should reduce that worry substantially. Recovery from myocardial infarction is usually in the two-month range at least, and we'll use that time for cardio rehab and also for getting you stabilized. If we don't find that there are any triggers related to your job, then, there's no reason you can't go back to it, once you've recovered."

"Really?"

"Really. There may have to be some modifications, such as, possibly, avoiding early-morning activity where that's an option and that is simply because the spasms tend to occur in the overnight and early morning hours, as you've seen the last couple of days. However, the risk will be much less once we start treatment."

Tim looked a bit more hopeful at the idea that he had the chance to go back to work, eventually.

"Unlike other types of angina, this type, caused by CAS, is not generally brought on by exercise, meaning that regular physical activity will not aggravate it. We'll do some tests to be sure, but given the fact that you've never had this as an issue before, it does appear to fit the trend in that regard. As a federal agent, you may have times when you are required to run in pursuit of a criminal and there is no reason to expect that to cause a spasm or subsequent angina."

"Will I have another heart attack?" Tim asked.

"It's impossible to say. Since you've had one, having another is more likely, but what that possibility is...that's just not something we can predict. _However_ , I want to emphasize, Tim, that you have not just been given a death sentence. In fact, in many ways, you've dodged a bullet and you now have the chance to recover. Not everyone gets that chance. While I understand that this is probably nearly impossible at this point, what you need to do is get back to living your life rather than simply existing with the continual fear of a recurrence."

"How do I do that, though?" Tim asked. "This has all happened because of something that I can't even control."

"Because you _can_ control it to a degree. You're not just helplessly waiting to die. You'll have the calcium antagonist. In addition, we'll also give you a prescription for nitroglycerin in case you do experience any episodes of angina. You'll be taught how to use it and when to recognize if it's not helping. And over time, one of the things that will help the most is that you'll learn to live with CAS rather than have the constant fear that I know you're experiencing right now. Panic tends to make the symptoms worse than they would be."

"But this still isn't simple, really, is it," Tim said.

"No. It's not. We'll be doing tests to see if we can determine your triggers. You'll be recovering from your heart attack. And, barring any new discoveries, you will have CAS for the rest of your life. It's just a matter of making the modifications required to keep you healthy and happy."

"So...what's first?" Tim asked.

"We'll start you on amlodipine. You'll be in the hospital for another couple of days and then, we'll deal with your recovery on an outpatient basis. Ideally, this will lead to nearly complete control of your CAS and your return to a regular life."

Gibbs tried to keep out of the way as Tim was getting this information and asking the questions that would help him accept how his life had changed. Tony had stirred as if he wanted to say something, but Gibbs had simply raised an eyebrow at him. Tony could talk later. This was Tim's time to talk and to understand the diagnosis, not to have others understand it for him. Tim asked more questions, and as an outsider to the conversation, Gibbs appreciated Dr. Dayley's calm and encouraging voice. Not all doctors had the so-called bedside manner, but Dr. Dayley did. He acknowledged Tim's worries but tried to keep Tim looking to the future rather than to the past that he couldn't change. He didn't discount Tim's fear or ignore it.

After talking with Tim for a few minutes, Dr. Dayley left to check on his other patients and Louise came in to do Tim's morning checkup. She explained the way the drug worked and why he would have both nitroglycerin and amlodipine, and why he wasn't getting the amlodipine until that night, along with the possible use of statins. It was a sudden glut of information after having almost nothing for two days. After Louise left, Tim looked a little overwhelmed.

"Tim?" Tony asked.

"Yeah?"

"You okay?"

Tim laughed a little. "No. No, I'm not. I've just been told that I'm going to have medication I have to take for the rest of my life, and that there's no cure for what I have. I've been told that I can probably go back to work unless it turns out that my spasms were triggered by something I do there. I have something that's rare enough they don't even know what causes it. And I still feel terrible." He laughed again. "I'm not okay."

Tim looked like he wanted to cry, although Gibbs was pretty sure he wouldn't. Tim wasn't one who would cry in public if he could avoid it. He wouldn't look at either Tony or Gibbs. He just sat staring at the blanket on the bed.

"But you will be," Tony said. "Even if you're not, now."

Tim said nothing. He just sat there.

Gibbs didn't say anything, either, but he sat there for a while before heading back to work. Tim needed company, even if it wasn't exactly lighthearted company.

Finally, though, he had to admit that, while Tony could miss a few days without consequence, as the team lead, Gibbs needed to be there unless it really wasn't possible. As he left the hospital, he could only hope that Tim's recovery would be as complete as Dr. Dayley indicated it could be.

 _Every 44 seconds...within 15 minutes...as little as 5 minutes...100 beats per minute...At least 60 minutes..._

Tony watched as Tim tried to process the diagnosis and the prognosis for what had happened. It was one of those moments when he knew there was nothing he could do, but he really wished that he could.

"Tim?"

"Don't try right now, Tony," Tim said, quietly. "Just don't. I can't...listen to that, not and have it sound like anything but platitudes. I just can't."

"Tim, it's not that..."

"No. Just stop it," Tim said. "I'm trying not to get mad at you. Ducky said that I'd want to, and I know it makes no sense to get mad. I don't really want to get mad, but..." He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. "You can try to be encouraging later, okay? Not now. Nothing is going to make me feel better, right now. So don't try. Please."

Tony wanted to press Tim to listen to him, but he tried to accept what Tim wanted. Maybe Tim really did need time without that.

"Do you want me to get out of here? I will if you want me to go. I'm not going to force you to let me stay."

Tim opened his eyes and smiled for a couple of seconds, but then, he closed his eyes again and was obviously trying to keep from breaking down. Tony wasn't sure what to do. It was just that he couldn't understand this situation, not completely. He could see that it would be a shock to deal with it, but he couldn't get into how it really _felt_.

"Tim?"

"No," Tim whispered. "I don't want to be alone with this. I know that it doesn't...make any sense. I don't want you to...do anything, but I don't want to be...alone."

"No, it makes sense," Tony said. "It does. Since I'm no good at being encouraging anyway, how about I read some more?"

Tim's eyes opened and he looked at Tony in surprise.

"You don't have to do anything."

"I know. How about it?"

Tim took a long shaky breath.

"Okay."

Tony smiled and pulled out his phone again. He'd have to track down a print copy or bring something with a bigger screen if he was going to keep reading. He opened _The Moonstone_ back up and continued reading. When he glanced up, Tim was leaning back and staring at the ceiling. He still looked miserable, but he wasn't quite so stressed out. From Tony's perspective, whatever kept Tim from having a meltdown was worth doing at this point.

So he read for another couple of hours. Nurses came in periodically to check on him, but other than that, it was just reading. Eventually, Tony had to give in and stop because he was getting tired of reading and it was drying out his throat.

"Okay, Tim. I need a break from reading."

Tim nodded.

"Thanks, Tony. I'm sorry for...being so stupid. When Ducky told me about how I could react, I didn't think I would. Even if I got frustrated or scared, I didn't think I'd take it out on anyone. If I'm starting out like this, that doesn't bode well for me as I go along."

"Sure it does. You're not being stupid. You're scared and you _didn't_ yell at me, even though you wanted to."

"I don't think I could get the breath to yell."

Tony smiled. "Can I try to be encouraging yet?"

Tim managed to smile back. "Sure. Give it a shot."

"Okay. You've had a whole overload of information this morning. Even if we all wanted to know what's wrong with you, it's still come down to something that isn't going away. That's scary and you don't want it to have happened. So you freak out a bit and you want to be mad at _someone_ because there's no one to blame for this. If it'll help, you can get mad at me anytime you want. I'll even let you apologize after. As long as you end up getting better, I'm totally okay with that."

Tim laughed a little.

"Thanks. I don't know that getting mad will help. You can tell me to stop being a jerk."

"Only if I really think you _are_ being one."

Tim took another deep breath.

"I just want normal back," he said, finally. "I can't believe how quickly I lost that."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Gibbs went up to the balcony. Sure, Vance already would know about this, but it was better to tell him and get that dealt with, rather than have to fight with HR later. He wanted to make sure that Tim had no problems with his job. He had a big enough battle to fight. HR wasn't worth the aggravation.

He was admitted to Vance's office.

"How's Agent McGee doing?" Vance asked, clearly knowing the reason for Gibbs' visit.

"He's got at least two months of recovery."

Vance nodded.

"Realistically, will he be able to come back as a field agent?"

"The doc seems to think so, or at least that it's likely."

"So what happened, then?"

"Some kind of spasm. It's treatable, not curable."

"Oh. And this won't affect his work?" Vance asked. "It's not a sedentary job."

"It's not caused by exercise."

Vance's brow furrowed. "It's not? Then, what causes it?"

"They don't know. They just know how to treat it, but the heart attack happened when he was just sitting around on stakeout."

"Right. Of course. I'll make sure HR doesn't give him any grief. He has the time, but if it does come down to his being unable to take on his duties again..."

"We'll let you know, but it'll be weeks."

"I'm not going to rush him, Gibbs. I'd like to keep apprised of his progress."

Gibbs nodded and then left. There wasn't anything more to say. They couldn't rush Tim's recovery and they couldn't predict how it would turn out. Even if Tim did fully recover, it would probably be more than two months before he was ready to take on all his previous activities. Gibbs was sure that they'd have to ease him back into it.

He headed down to Autopsy. Ducky should know the final diagnosis, even if they had all been prepped for it beforehand. Still, it was better to get the word around, especially because of how long it would take Tim to get back.

Ducky was just putting a body away when Gibbs got down to the basement. He looked up as the doors opened.

"Jethro. What's the word?"

"Like he thought. Coronary artery spasm. He said there's no sign of coronary artery disease."

"Really? That's interesting. Ever since we got the possible diagnosis, I've been reading about it, and it's more common in people of Japanese descent, but those of European descent are more likely to have multiple arteries."

"He only has one."

"And it's rare for it to be independent of coronary artery disease. Did Dr. Dayley say that it would change the treatment at all?"

"No. Just that they'll have to test to find out his triggers."

"Of course. That would likely be necessary anyway. And no cure?"

"No."

Ducky nodded, although he looked unhappy about it.

"I suspected as much from my reading. How did Timothy take it?"

"Not well."

"I suppose it would be strange if he had no problem with it. Is he alone?"

"Tony stayed."

"Good. He needs support to get through all this. The first few weeks are the hardest. He'll be overwhelmed and yet have very little energy. I don't know how the treatments will affect that."

"Delilah's on her way back."

"And Abigail?"

"Should be here tonight."

"Someone should be with her when she goes to see him."

"I will be, and so will Tony."

"Good. I would like to believe that even Abigail would understand Timothy's need for calm, but I don't know that I can."

"I can't."

Ducky smiled a little.

"What an unfortunate turn of events. There's no way to make this easy, and there's nothing to be done but manage it. It would be better if he could at least hold onto the idea of a cure for it."

"Not happening."

"I know, and believe me, I won't be harping on that. It's just an unfortunate situation."

"Yeah."

"I'll be sure to stop by after work today and perhaps tomorrow morning as well. I want to do what I can for him."

"Good."

Gibbs left Ducky to work and had work of his own to do. However, he called Abby and told her to come to NCIS before going to the hospital. Maybe he should trust Abby more, but they'd had too much evidence to the contrary that showed Abby wouldn't really think beyond that she was worried. After a day or two, she'd think about others.

"Is he doing any better?" Ellie asked.

Gibbs nodded noncomittally. "He won't be back for a while."

"Yeah. I figured. My uncle died of a heart attack. At least in his case, he'd grown up with a heart defect and we knew there would be problems, eventually. It was hard, but not unexpected. When it comes out of nowhere like this..."

Another nod.

"But he's going to be okay?"

"Should be. He'll be released in a couple of days."

"He won't be by himself, will he?"

"Don't know yet. Probably not."

"I wouldn't want to be by myself after a heart attack. What if I had another one?"

Which was basically what Tim was most afraid of at the moment. Still, Ellie had given voice to something that they hadn't really discussed much. They'd have to figure out what to do, if Tim wasn't ready to be alone...which he probably wasn't.

All through the day, Gibbs couldn't help but think about what was happening with his agent. Ducky having a heart attack had been awful, not the least of which because it had been yet another potential loss at a time when many things had been going wrong. At the same time, it wasn't the surprise it might have been because Ducky was old. Young people shouldn't have heart attacks. That Tim felt the same way wasn't surprising at all. He was shocked that he could be the guy who had a heart attack out of nowhere. He just hoped that Tim was getting his mind wrapped around everything and that he wasn't just going to pretend that everything was fine. He hadn't been this morning, but Gibbs would be genuinely shocked if he could get over it that easily.

Only time would tell.

 _Every 44 seconds...within 15 minutes...as little as 5 minutes...100 beats per minute...At least 60 minutes..._

Tim wished that he felt better than he did. He just couldn't find any energy to do anything. He supposed that he shouldn't expect anything better when his heart had almost stopped working, but still...

 _I hate this._

Tony had stepped out just to get some lunch and stretch his legs. Tim felt bad about keeping him here. It must be depressing. Hospitals weren't fun in the best of times, and this wasn't the best of times by any stretch of the imagination. It was just that he really didn't want to be alone in this depressing situation.

Everything felt wrong. Tim couldn't really give a better description than that. His whole being just didn't feel right. Whether it was all in his head or not, he felt like his heart wasn't right. It felt like it didn't fit in his chest, like it had been dislodged from its regular space and was now just sitting loose in there, moving around with each beat.

All in all, he wasn't happy. He wasn't healthy, and he had no energy to do anything about any of it. He stared at the ceiling, suddenly wondering if it was a good thing that he had survived the heart attack. Part of him was aware that it was far from logical to wish he was dead simply because he needed time to recover.

 _I just want to know that I really_ can _recover._

His thoughts started getting darker as he considered all the possibilities for how his life could turn out.

Before the trend got too dour, the door opened.

"Hey, Tim, look at who I found out in the hallway!" Tony said as he came in.

"Tim! Mom told me what happened! I came as soon as I could."

Sarah ran in and before Tim knew it he was being smothered by his little sister.

"Sarah, give him a chance to breathe!" Tony said.

Tim hugged Sarah back, but only for a second because she pulled away from him and looked worried.

"Oh, was I hurting you, Tim?" she asked.

Tim forced a smile. "No. I didn't get shot or beat up, Sarah. I had a heart attack."

Sarah bit her lip, and Tim knew she had no idea what to say. There was a bit of an awkward pause.

"Is Mom coming?" he asked.

"Well, you know how she feels about flying. You'll probably be all better by the time she gets out here, but she said she was."

Tim nodded. Actually, he wasn't sure if he was happy to see Sarah or not. He wasn't sure if he'd be happy to see his mother or not. It probably should be better than to sit around wallowing, but he kind of _wanted_ to wallow. It was just that he _shouldn't_ want to wallow, so he couldn't just send Sarah away. She wasn't likely to stay very long anyway. She probably felt awkward at seeing him so incapacitated. She'd want to know what had happened and what was going to happen, but then, after a day or so, she'd want to get away.

"Tim, do they know why it happened?"

"Yeah," he said. He didn't want to think about it or talk about it, but he had to let his family know what was going on. "I have something called coronary artery spasm. One of the arteries going to my heart randomly closes. They have to see if they can figure out what triggers it, but they don't know much about it, just that I have it and they'll be giving me some medication to treat it."

"Cure it?" she asked.

"No," Tim said, hating that he had to say it. "There's no cure."

"But that doesn't mean that he won't get better," Tony said, stepping in as the one with the good attitude. "He'll have to take the time to heal up, but he'll be fine in a couple of months."

Sarah's expression cleared a bit, and Tim knew that Tony had said _mostly_ what she wanted to hear, i.e. that her brother wasn't going to be this weakened stranger forever. Tim hoped that Tony was right. That was all he _could_ do at the moment.

Sarah sat down started to talk to him about what she was studying and how she had decided on her dissertation topic, the number of times her committee had made her rewrite her proposal, and so on. Tim was glad that she was talking because he didn't want to. It took too much energy. He leaned back and let her words just wash over him. He felt tired again, and so, in spite of his best efforts, he fell asleep before she was even close to done.

 _Every 44 seconds...within 15 minutes...as little as 5 minutes...100 beats per minute...At least 60 minutes..._

Sarah looked at Tony worriedly as Tim's eyes closed in the middle of a sentence. Her words petered out and she was left silently staring at her brother.

"It's okay, Sarah," Tony said. "He's been really tired, and it's only been two days. This is normal while he's recovering."

"Are you sure?" she asked. "He didn't really seem very happy to see me."

"He hasn't been happy to see anyone," Tony said, honestly. "He's pretty run down and he just got the diagnosis this morning."

"Oh, should I not have asked him about it?" Sarah asked.

Tony wasn't sure how he had become the expert. He had no idea. He had been surprised that Tim's expression had been so lackluster when Sarah had come in. Knowing how much Tim loved his sister, Tony couldn't figure out why he had seemed so cold about her, but he could be right. Maybe Tim just needed some time.

"No, I think it was okay. You're an easier visitor than Abby will be."

Sarah smiled a little. "I can only imagine. Where's Delilah?"

"On her way, I think. Only she'll be flying."

"Right." Then, she looked worried again. "What do I do now that he's sleeping?"

"That I can't help you with. I've just been sitting around."

"Oh. You've been here the whole time?"

"Not the _whole_ time, but a lot of it. Tim needed company," Tony said, hedging at telling Sarah how scared Tim had been.

"Oh." She looked at Tim again. "Is he going to be okay?"

"Yeah. Eventually. It'll take some time, though."

Then, the worst happened. Sarah's eyes filled with tears and she started to cry.

"Right now, he reminds me of how Dad looked right before..."

"Hey, none of that," Tony said, moving over to her quickly. If Tim wasn't actually asleep, the last thing he needed to hear was his sister comparing him to his dead father.

Sarah stood up and hugged Tony.

"He's going to be okay. He's not dying. It's only been a couple of days. No one heals up _that_ fast."

Sarah sniffled a few times.

"I'm sorry. I'm being stupid. It's just that Tim's always been the strong one. No matter what happened, he was always there and knowing what to do. I don't know how to...look at him when he's the one needing help."

"Just remember that he's already getting the help. We just need to be here for him. That's all. It's not complicated, not even for you overly-smart people."

Sarah pulled back and laughed through her tears.

"Thanks. I guess I can sit here while he's sleeping. I brought some articles with me."

"Sounds thrilling. I'll go see if I can get an update on work stuff. Then, I'll be back, okay?"

"Okay."

Tony let himself out of the room, relieved that someone else was there and still worried about Tim. He didn't like having to be the one with all the answers. That was fine in a work situation (well, most of the time), but in something like this? No way.

Still, he _could_ get a report from work and find out when Abby was going to descend and maybe Gibbs had heard from Delilah, too. It was worth a shot.

And it would give Sarah some time alone with Tim. Maybe that would help.

 _Every 44 seconds...within 15 minutes...as little as 5 minutes...100 beats per minute...At least 60 minutes..._

"Gibbs, I know you don't think I can be calm, but I really can!" Abby said.

"Good. Do it."

Abby smiled, but then, she looked worried.

"Is he okay?"

"Not yet."

"Right. I get it."

"Good. Then, we can go inside."

Gibbs led Abby into the hospital and back to Tim's room. He didn't know if Tim would be sleeping or not. If he was, he would keep Abby from waking him. He opened the door without knocking, so that he didn't disturb Tim.

Sarah was sitting by the bed, but she looked up as soon as the door opened. Gibbs was about to pull back out since Tim looked like he was sleeping, but Sarah shook Tim gently and his eyes opened. Too late to turn back now. Gibbs opened the door all the way.

"Hey, Boss," Tim said, sounding almost normal.

Gibbs was not entirely surprised that there was little of Tim's fear expressed right now. He couldn't believe it was really gone, but Tim wouldn't want to show that to his little sister. While he didn't like that Tim was pretending to be fine, he wouldn't bring it up for now.

"How are you feeling?"

"Okay."

Unfortunately, Tim didn't really _look_ okay. He still had that pasty and weak look about him. In fact, it was questionable as to whether or not Sarah was at all fooled by Tim's attempt at bravado.

Abby suddenly pushed past him and came into the room.

"Tim, are you really okay?" she asked.

Tim smiled a little but looked wary.

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean you can smother me, okay, Abbs?"

Abby laughed.

"Can I hug you gently, then?"

"Yes."

Abby leaned over and did as she said. Gibbs was impressed that she managed it. It was no small feat for Abby to be calm and gentle when she was worried.

"How was that?" she asked.

"That was fine."

"Good. How long are you going to be here?"

"Couple more days," Tim said.

"What about after?"

"Then, I'll be seen on an outpatient basis."

"But you'll be alone!"

"I'll be fine, Abbs," Tim said.

"What if this happens again, though?"

Gibbs saw the flash of fear in Tim's eyes and he barely kept himself from rolling his eyes at Abby's tactlessness.

"Abby," he said.

"But you shouldn't be leaving it to chance."

"He won't," Gibbs said, trying to stop her. "He'll be fine."

Abby looked at Gibbs and saw the warning. He could see her wanting to protest, but she didn't.

"Okay. I'm sorry. I just don't want anything else to happen to my geek."

Tim smiled. "You haven't called me that in a while."

"That's because Delilah might protest."

At the mention of Delilah, Tim glanced at Gibbs but didn't say anything.

"She's flying over," Gibbs said.

"Okay."

There was a knock on the door and Louise came in.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Tim. I didn't realize you had so many visitors. It's time for your first dose of amlodipine."

"Oh," Tim said. He looked around at everyone. "Guys, can you give me some time?"

"It won't take long," Louise said.

"Please?" Tim asked.

Gibbs nodded and gestured to Abby. He guessed that Tim wanted to be able to ask questions without an audience. As long as he didn't hide anything that his friends and family _needed_ to know, Gibbs was fine with letting Tim have his privacy.

"I'm going to call Mom and see where she is," Sarah said, withdrawing from the other two.

Gibbs nodded and then looked at Abby.

"You can't hound him like that, Abbs."

"I'm just worried, Gibbs!"

"And so is he. Give him a chance to figure this stuff out himself. He's not stupid."

"I wasn't saying that he was."

"Abby."

Abby sighed. "Fine."

Gibbs hated it when Abby acted so put upon. He knew that he had a weak spot when it came to Abby, but in this case, Tim was more important.

"He needs the time. It's been two days."

That was the most important thing. Tim needed time.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"Now, it comes in pill form which makes this much easier to administer. No need for injections, but your body is going to have to adjust to it. The next few days are going to be somewhat unpleasant as that happens."

Tim sighed. "So what else is new? The last few days have been unpleasant, too."

Louise smiled sympathetically. "But this is better because you can know that it's helping and not hurting. Once you adjust, it will just become part of your daily routine. We have to take some time making sure we get the right dosage because every person is a little different, but then, you won't have to worry about it."

Tim stared at the ceiling again.

"Right now...it doesn't seem worth it."

"What do you mean, Tim?"

Tim swallowed around the tightness in his throat and just shook his head, choosing to stare at the ceiling rather than look at Louise.

"Talk to me, Tim. What do you mean?"

Another sigh. "Everything feels wrong. It has since before I had the heart attack. Nothing feels right. _I_ don't feel right. My heart doesn't feel right. My body doesn't feel right. Now, in order to treat what's wrong with my heart, I have to make myself feel even more wrong. I know it's stupid to feel that way, but right now...I just don't feel like making myself feel worse than I already do is worth it." He stopped talking, mostly because the tightness threatened to spread from his throat.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, but he still didn't want to make eye contact.

"Tim, I know I can't understand exactly how you're feeling, but I have seen a lot of patients come through here. What you're feeling right now is normal. You don't want to deal with more discomfort, pain, and uncertainty. You've already had plenty of it. What you need to do is be patient with yourself. It is miserable right now, and there's really no way to make that go away. You just have to get through it, one day at a time, until you can look back and realize that you're a lot better than you were. And that _will_ happen. It doesn't happen all at once, but it does happen. I promise."

"But how long will that take?" Tim asked, embarrassed by how thick his voice sounded and he tried to keep control of himself.

"You're going to feel weak and lethargic for a couple of weeks, probably. Then, you'll start getting more energy as you do the cardio rehab. You still won't have a lot of energy, but you'll be able to do more things and you won't feel so wiped out. What you're doing is letting your heart heal. That's basically what a heart attack is, damage to the heart that, then, has to heal. No, it won't ever be exactly the same again, but it'll be close. We didn't see as much damage as we were afraid of seeing. You'll get better, Tim. It just takes time, and it has to. There's no other way."

"Time. Why is it that everything went wrong so fast but is taking so long to go right again?"

"That's life, I'm afraid."

"Yeah. That's life. ...and I'm afraid."

"I understand that, but you don't have to be. And you don't ever have to go through it alone. All you need to do is ask someone for help, your friends, your family, even us, here. You never have to deal with it on your own if you don't want to. Are you ready to start?"

Tim finally looked at Louise.

"I guess so."

"Good. Here you go. Now, acknowledging that you already feel pretty crappy..."

Tim smiled a little.

"...if you start noticing anything different, swelling in your extremities, dizziness, nausea, let us know right away. Most of the side effects are mild and will fade as you go along, but we don't want anything to go wrong."

"Right."

Tim took a breath and then, took the dose of amlodipine, hoping that this was something that would go right.

 _Every 44 seconds...within 15 minutes...as little as 5 minutes...100 beats per minute...At least 60 minutes..._

Over the next few days, Tim had the ups and downs of adjusting to his medication. The first night, he had some tightness in his chest that scared him, but it never advanced to pain and it eased off after a few minutes. However, he did have peripheral edema which made him miserable, along with increased lethargy. Both Delilah and his mom made it to visit him. Sarah stayed around for a couple of days, and the NCIS people were in and out. Tim didn't seem to appreciate it much, though. He was too busy being miserable. He was sleeping a lot, but when he was awake, he wasn't comfortable. It restricted how much he was willing to interact with anyone.

After four days, Tim seemed to be getting back on an even keel with his medication. There would still be some adjustments, but that would be done over a couple of weeks rather than all at once. Tim was released from the hospital.

For the first week, both Delilah and Tim's mother were with him. Sarah had gone back to grad school but had promised to call every day. After the first week, Delilah had to get back to work with a special project in New York. She was going to call every night and be back on the weekends, but she couldn't stay in DC for any longer. So it was just Tim with his mother.

Tim was mostly just sleeping and going to rehab. He had very little energy for anything else. Because everyone else was working, they just had to content themselves with dropping by when they could, but Tim was as likely to be sleeping as anything. Part of that was due to the medication. Part was due to his continuing recovery.

Sometimes, they couldn't help wondering if Tim was really getting better or not.

 _Every 44 seconds...within 15 minutes...as little as 5 minutes...100 beats per minute...At least 60 minutes..._

Tony was sitting at his desk, thinking about what had happened. Even more than two weeks after Tim's heart attack, he still found himself going over that day again and again. He couldn't stop thinking about how quickly everything had changed.

He looked over at Tim's empty desk and hoped that Tim would be back soon. Or even just back, whether it was sooner or later.

His phone started ringing and he answered quickly.

"DiNozzo."

" _Tony, could you please lie to my mom and tell her that you're going to be staying with me during the night, so that she'll go home?"_

"What?" Tony was surprised at getting a phone call from Tim during the day and even more surprised that he sounded so _normal_. He had that exasperated tone that he usually reserved for Tony.

" _I need you to tell my mom that you're going to be staying with me overnight. Lie to her. She refuses to leave until she knows that someone will be staying here. Delilah will be here on the weekend, but that's not enough for her. She won't believe me. I need you to back me up."_

"And you want me to lie to your _mother_."

" _Yes."_

"I take it she's not right there?"

" _She's grocery shopping. She'll be back in a few minutes. I told her not to bother, but she never listens, and I just don't have the energy to fight with her. I think she's exploiting that."_

Tony laughed. He couldn't help it. The idea of Tim wanting Tony to talk to his mother just sounded too bizarre.

"I _can_ come over."

" _I haven't had any major issues since I came home. Mom can go just like Sarah did,"_ Tim said, sounding a little miffed. _"She'd see that if she wasn't so fixated on..."_ Tim's voice trailed off, and Tony wondered if Tim was thinking about his dad, like Sarah had. _"Please, Tony?"_

"Call me when she gets back."

" _Thank you."_

Tony hung up and thought about it. Was it really a good idea to have Tim by himself overnight when that was the most likely time for him to have one of those spasms? To be honest, Tony didn't know. He really didn't have any idea. Tim couldn't have people with him all the time, and the medication was supposed to stop the spasms. Tim shouldn't have to worry about it, but at the same time, it hadn't been that long and his heart probably wasn't yet healed up from the heart attack.

Still, Tim probably was a little aggravated by all the attention. He had already threatened to ban Abby from visiting him if she didn't stop asking him if he was feeling all right. There had been just enough bite to the statement that they knew he meant it, even if he had smiled when he said it. Ducky had warned them that there was a period of time that was needed for Tim to deal with what had happened and to adjust mentally to the fact that he had a lifelong disorder. Without letting him get away with being outright rude, they needed to make some allowances for that.

After a few more minutes, the phone rang.

"Agent DiNozzo," he said, unsure if it would be Tim or his mom.

" _Tony, my mom's here."_

"Put her on," Tony said, smiling to himself.

" _Mom, here. Tony will tell you."_

" _Hello? Agent DiNozzo?"_

"Hi, Mrs. McGee."

" _Tim tells me that you're planning on staying overnight with him when Delilah isn't here. Is that true?"_

Spur of the moment, Tony made a decision that he knew would make Tim irritated, but he felt was the right thing to do.

"Actually, no. It's not true."

" _Really?"_

"Really. But don't tell him I told you. Tim doesn't want you to be worrying about him so much, and he's trying to get you to go home. I don't know if he needs someone there all night, but I don't know if it's a good idea to have no one there at all. So here's what I'll do. I'll promise you that I'll check on him every night and first thing in the morning to make sure that he's okay. How about that?"

" _You promise?"_

"Cross my..." Tony stopped himself before he finished the phrase. "I promise."

" _All right. I'll trust you, and maybe my son, too."_

Tony grinned and made a mental note to swing by Tim's place that evening.

"Even though he was trying to get me to lie to you, it's only because he cares."

Tim's mother sighed. _"I know that much. If only he'd care a little more about himself and a little less about other people and what they want or need from him. That's what I kept telling his..."_ She stopped abruptly. _"Anyway..."_

"I promise I'll come by in the evening."

" _Thank you, Agent DiNozzo. Tim keeps thinking that he can pretend he's better and it'll be the truth."_

Tony could hear something muffled, probably Tim. Then, it sounded like the phone was going back to him.

" _Tony, thanks."_

Tony smiled to himself. Tim had no idea.

"No problem. I'll see you later, okay?"

" _Yeah."_

Tony hung up and decided that he was absolutely going to stop by to check on Tim and see how he was feeling. He knew that Tim had been terrified of being alone before. Was he really over it, now? It had been a couple of weeks, but still...

He had to get back to work, but nothing would keep him from checking on Tim tonight.

 _Every 44 seconds...within 15 minutes...as little as 5 minutes...100 beats per minute...At least 60 minutes..._

"Tim, please, promise me that you'll take it easy."

"Mom, you know I really can't do anything else, right now. I _have_ to take it easy. I walk for five minutes and I'm panting like an old man."

Tim sat down on a chair and sighed. He leaned over and stared at the floor. Walking from one room to the other had tired him out. His mother came over and lifted him up so that he had to look at her.

"But promise me that you'll take it easy because you know you need it, not because you have no other choice."

Tim smiled a little. "I can't promise that."

"I know, but try, Tim. Take a little extra time now, so that we have you for a lot longer. There's no reason to push it."

"I don't feel like I can do any pushing. So I won't."

"No, Tim. That is the wrong attitude to have. Don't push because you know you shouldn't, not because you can't. If that's the only reason you're not pushing yourself, then, as soon as you can, you'll push too hard. I don't want that to happen."

Tim sighed again.

"I know you feel like you're weak, but you show your strength by accepting what's happened and doing what you're supposed to do, not by being foolish. Just try, Tim. I know I can't stay here forever and force you to be reasonable. So please, try."

"I can't promise to do it, but I can promise to try."

His mom kissed the top of his head.

"Well, since I know that you succeed at everything you try for, then, I'll feel fine about trusting you, and I'll go home."

Tim smiled a little.

"If I hear one word that you're overdoing it, I'll come back and embarrass you."

Tim laughed.

"Okay, Mom."

"Now, I'll be your mother for a few more minutes and make sure you take your nap. I will also make sure that your dinner is in the fridge and you _will_ eat it."

"Okay."

"Good."

Tim stood up, ready to go back to his bedroom, but his mother stopped him for a moment. He looked down at her. He had got his height from his dad, not his mom. She was at least six inches shorter than he was.

"Tim."

"Yeah?"

"I love you. This isn't something that anyone wanted for you. I know this is hard. I know that it still scares you. But I've never seen you defeated by anything. Don't let this be the first thing. Take your time. Let yourself heal. Don't expect more from yourself than you know you can give."

Tim sighed. "I hate this, Mom."

"I know."

She hugged him tightly.

"It will go away. Eventually." She let him go and smiled. "But for now...go take a nap."

Tim did as he was told. He lay down and was almost disappointed by how easy it was for him to go to sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Tony headed over to Tim's place right after work, determined to keep his promise to Tim's mother. She was plenty formidable all on her own and only an idiot would ignore her concern. He just wasn't sure how Tim would take it. He knew that Tim wasn't wanting people hovering over him all the time, but at the same time, he might want someone there occasionally.

So he knocked on the door and waited.

And waited.

Then, just when he had decided that Tim wasn't coming to the door (and wondering what that might mean), he heard the lock being turned and the door opened.

While Tim was far from as frail as he had looked in the hospital, he still didn't look all that great. However, right now, the expression on his face was a normal one. He was surprised to see Tony, that much was obvious.

"Tony, what are you doing here?"

"Can I come in?"

Tim hesitated for a moment and then nodded.

"Yeah, sure. Come on in."

He stepped back and pulled the door open all the way. Then, he walked over to a chair and sat down, taking a deep breath as he did so.

"Still feeling tired?"

"No, I just got done running a marathon," Tim said, sounding a little bitter. "You interrupted my cool down."

"Hey, come on," Tony said.

"Why ask an obvious question?" Tim asked, the bitterness increasing. "It's obvious that I am tired. It's obvious that I'm not better yet. Why ask? Why are you here?"

Tony smiled a little. "Why ask an obvious question? You know why I'm here. That's why you're being so snippy."

"I told you to lie to my mom."

"I know. I didn't lie to her."

"I don't need anyone staying with me overnight."

"I didn't say that I would be, although I would if you wanted me to."

"You just said that you didn't lie."

"I didn't. I told your mom that I wasn't going to stay with you overnight, but that I'd be sure to check on you in the evening and in the morning, and your mom is scary enough that you'd better believe that I'm going to do it, whether you want me to or not."

Tim took a few deep breaths.

Tony grabbed a chair and set it down beside Tim. Then, he sat down.

"McGee, what's going through that big brain of yours? You're the one who wanted your mom to leave, but I'm starting to think that you don't really want to be alone. Am I right?"

"I don't know," Tim said, leaning over to stare at the floor. "I don't know what I want...or I do know what I want. I want to be over this, but I don't know what I really want. I just..." He sighed. "I'm waiting for it to happen again, but I can't live my life doing that. Everyone keeps telling me that, and if I have to have people around all night long, I'm not living my life. I'm just being afraid."

"It's okay to be afraid. Tim, it's only been a couple of weeks. Why are you expecting to be back to normal already?"

"Because I'm sick of _not_ being back to normal, Tony!" Tim burst out. He shook his head and looked away.

Tony watched Tim for a few seconds, and he decided that he had to say something to help. He wasn't sure it would, but it could.

"I know it wasn't the same, but I can kind of understand that. I hated the time it took to get over the plague," Tony said. "I came back before I was supposed to because I didn't want to be replaced, not even temporarily, but I really wasn't ready. I got worn out and had trouble breathing. And I still do sometimes. My lungs are permanently scarred from that. Most of the time, it's no problem, but I still get reminders of it, and I hate it. I admit it, but it gets better. It just takes time. Be smarter than I was...since I know you are already."

"I don't feel smart, Tony," Tim said. "I don't feel smart. I don't feel strong. I don't feel capable. I just feel...weak. Weak and stupid."

"You're not."

Tim laughed, but Tony could hear how fragile it was.

"Do you want someone to stay here overnight?"

"No... Yes... maybe."

"Which one?" Tony asked. "If you say yes, it's not a problem. No one would mind. I don't mind, as long as you let me grab some stuff from home, first."

There was no answer.

Tony gave Tim a gentle thump on the shoulder.

"It's really okay, Tim. Do you want me to stay?"

Tim swallowed audibly and nodded.

"Okay. Give me a few to get home and then come back. Have you eaten?"

"Yeah," Tim said, his voice thick. "Mom said I'd better make sure I eat something or I'd be sorry."

"Good. I'll be back."

Tim nodded again. He still hadn't made eye contact, and Tony wasn't going to force him to when he was clearly that upset by everything. Instead, Tony just left and made sure he didn't linger too much. He also called Gibbs and told him what was going on. Better to have these things known than to hide them, and it wasn't like Gibbs would go blabbing about it to the whole building.

Then, it was back to Tim's place and he smiled when he saw that Tim had gone to the effort of getting out sheets and blankets for the hide-a-bed in his main room.

He was sitting again, though, and he looked tired.

"I'm glad you didn't pull out the bed for me," Tony said. "You look ready to collapse."

Tim smiled a little. "I thought about it, but I knew I'd fail."

"You want a ride to your rehab tomorrow?"

The smile vanished, but Tim nodded.

"Okay. I'll just get permission to be a little late. I love it when I have a good excuse. Now, you should probably go to bed and I'll enjoy the fact that your couch is a lot more comfortable than that cot in the hospital, and that you have way more channels. Speaking of which, when did you get cable or satellite or whatever?"

"Last year. There was a promotion, and Delilah likes watching some shows. I can afford it, so..."

"Well, whatever the reason, I'm glad."

"Glad I could help. ...and thanks for staying, Tony."

"No problem. _This_ is easy to do."

"Not easy to ask for."

"I know."

Tim went into his bedroom and Tony assumed that he went to sleep. The light went off after about half an hour. Tony stayed up much later, watching TV, and the couch really was quite comfortable. While he regretted the reason for it, he had been honest. This was easy. As long as Tim didn't have any problems, this was a cushy job.

 _Every 44 seconds...within 15 minutes...as little as 5 minutes...100 beats per minute...At least 60 minutes..._

The next morning, they were both up early, and Tony was relieved to note that Tim hadn't had any problems during the night, at least, none that had awakened him. They both got ready for their respective days. Tony tried to let Tim do as much as he could, but he knew that Tim couldn't possibly do it all without any problems. That meant that he helped with breakfast and he helped clean up.

Then, he took Tim to his therapy. He had an ulterior motive for doing it. It gave him a chance to ask a question he'd been wanting to ask ever since Tim had survived the heart attack.

He walked into the hospital with Tim, even though he didn't have to. Tim didn't say anything, but Tony could tell he was wondering what was going on.

When they got to the rehab room, Tony gave Tim a little shove.

"Go on and run your marathon, Tim. I'll see you, later."

Tim raised an eyebrow, rather reminiscent of Gibbs, actually.

"You said I interrupted your marathon last night," Tony said. "Now, you can finish it."

Tim smiled slightly. "Yeah, maybe in another three months."

"Good goal. I would have shot for more like a year."

Tim walked over to his therapist and Tony saw Dr. Dayley talking with one of the other therapists. He headed over to him.

"Dr. Dayley?"

Dr. Dayley looked at him for a moment, clearly trying to figure out where he had seen him before.

"Tony DiNozzo. My friend, Tim McGee, had a heart attack."

"Oh, of course. I know my patients, but I don't always get all their visitors down," he said, smiling. "Can I help you?"

"I have a question, if you've got a minute."

"Of course." He looked at the therapist. "I'm fine with pushing her a little. Let me know the results at the end of the week."

"Sure thing."

The therapist left them.

"What's your question?"

"It's about Tim. Um...before he had the heart attack, we'd been on stakeout for days. We were both tired of it, and I'd been really irritated at him, and well..." Now that the moment to ask was there, Tony balked at it.

"You're wondering if you caused his heart attack," Dr. Dayley said. It wasn't a question.

"Yeah."

"No. While we don't know, ultimately, what causes CAS, the disorder itself appears to be genetic. And each individual spasm is not triggered by increased heart rate or exercise or anything like that. You were there when I explained that the spasms generally occur during the night or early morning?"

"Yeah."

"That's _without_ any aggravation. Tim has experienced that multiple times now. Thankfully, I think we've got his medication settled and he can start easing into the long-term use, and for some people, they actually go into a kind of remission where they don't have _any_ spasms for years. From everything Tim has said about what happened, the spasm started well before he got out of the car. It was a gradual thing that just got progressively worse as the spasm continued, until it lasted long enough to trigger the heart attack. It's possible that the uncomfortable conditions, combined with the fact that it was early morning and had been repeated over time, caused the initial spasm, but we really can't know that. Believe me, it wasn't because of anything you did. What you did was save his life."

Tony shuffled a little. It was weird thinking of that kind of thing.

"I mean it. People have heart attacks every day in this country. Many of them die because the people around them don't help. They're too afraid to try it. They don't think they really know how. They think that someone else will help. From what Tim has said, you didn't hesitate. You called for help right away, and the report says that you did CPR until the ambulance arrived. You kept him alive long enough for us to help him. Instead of worrying about the unlikely possibility that you caused his heart attack, think about the _fact_ that you saved him."

"He's not always happy about that."

"I know. He's not just doing physical therapy here."

"Oh. He's not?"

Dr. Dayley smiled. "No. He's not. We've had some experience with people recovering from heart injuries and we know a lot of the psychological side effects. Was there anything else you needed?"

"No. Is there something more that we should be doing?"

"I doubt it. There's always a period of adjustment that the patient needs. Every person is a little, or a lot, different. You'll have to feel your way through it. You know him well. That means you'll know what driving him most of the time. You'll have the chance to help him as he needs it. He may even ask for it, but that's not always the case."

"Only if he absolutely has to."

"That's very often the case. Just remember that this hasn't changed who he is or anything about him. All it's done is add another layer, an unwanted layer, yes, but still, a layer."

"Okay."

"Now, I have to get to another appointment."

"Yeah, okay. Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Dr. Dayley left and Tony knew he needed to get to work. He looked across the room and saw Tim sitting on a recumbent bike, talking to a therapist. Clearly, he wasn't needed here at the moment, so he left.

 _Every 44 seconds...within 15 minutes...as little as 5 minutes...100 beats per minute...At least 60 minutes..._

Tim watched Tony leave after talking to Dr. Dayley. He wondered what that had been about, but it wasn't like he was keeping anything from anyone. There was nothing to hide. He spent some time talking to the counselor and had a short group session before turning his attention to the physical therapy part of his day. This was going to be his first time doing some actual exercise and he was both a little nervous about it and eager to get going.

"Okay, Tim. Let's get you riding and remember that you need to take it slow to start. I'm putting the resistance only on one and I don't want you fiddling with it. The timer will count down and someone will come over to check on you."

Tim nodded.

"Good. Okay, get going. Not too fast."

Tim hesitated and then started pedaling. It wasn't hard, but it still scared him a little bit. It was the first time he'd actually done something since his heart attack.

"Remember that I wouldn't have you do this if I didn't think you could. We had to let your heart heal for a few days, but now, we can get going. It's just like if you broke a bone. You don't leap into sprinting right away. You have the cast on. You let it heal up and then, you have therapy to strengthen it again. That's what we're doing, only with your heart."

"But if my leg stops working, it doesn't kill me."

"This isn't going to kill you. Just look on it as training. You'll be fine."

Tim nodded and kept going. He was breathless pretty quickly, but he was supposed to go until the timer went off. He kept at it and, three minutes later, the timer stopped. Gladly, he stopped pedaling, embarrassed that he was feeling tired out by it, but too tired to pay much more attention than that. He leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes.

"How did that feel, Tim?"

"Tiring."

"Let's get your pulse and see what's going on in there."

After a few silent seconds, Tim opened his eyes.

"Your heart rate is a little high. How hard did you feel like you were working?"

"Well, it _shouldn't_ have been so..."

"No value judgments. Just tell me how it felt."

"Like I was training for an Iron Man."

"On a scale of one to ten."

"Uh...I don't know. Eight, I guess."

"Okay. Take a rest for a few minutes. Then, we'll see about getting you on the treadmill."

Tim was okay with that. He sat where he was for a while and then decided to get a drink. The drinking fountain was only a few feet away. Surely, he could get that far. It wasn't like he hadn't already been walking.

He stood up and was instantly hit by a wave of dizziness. It was so sudden that he felt as though he was going to topple over. He tried to sit down again, but he missed.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Ducky was just finishing up a report when his phone started ringing. He answered it, hoping that the call would be short.

"Dr. Mallard."

" _Hello, Dr. Mallard. This is Shane, Tim's physical therapist."_

"Oh, yes. I believe I met you once. Has something happened?"

" _Yes. Tim took a bit of a tumble today and I don't want him taking transit or a taxi home. He's tried to tell me that this isn't necessary. In fact, he's glaring at me right now, but Dr. Dayley agrees. Would it be possible for you to come and give him a ride? I realize that this is the middle of your work day, but..."_

"No, of course. I'll be right over."

" _Thank you."_

Ducky hung up, gave one last look at his report, and hurried to his car.

 _Every 44 seconds...within 15 minutes...as little as 5 minutes...100 beats per minute...At least 60 minutes..._

"If it's no big deal, I don't see why I can't just get home myself. It's not like I'd be driving, anyway," Tim said.

Shane shook his head. "It's not a big deal because it's to be expected while you're still adjusting to your medication and healing from your heart attack. That doesn't mean it's nothing. It just means that we understand why it happened and we know what to tell you to keep it from happening again."

"Great."

"Look on the bright side, Tim."

"Yeah? What's that?"

"You didn't have to get on the treadmill, today."

"Yeah, I guess."

Shane patted Tim on the shoulder.

"Don't worry. We'll get you on the treadmill, next time."

Tim smiled a little.

"Timothy, you're looking better than I was afraid you'd look when they called me."

Tim glanced over.

"I didn't even completely pass out, Ducky. I just wasn't ready for it."

"Nevertheless, I'm relieved to see you in such good state. I was worried."

"Nothing to be worried about," Tim said, staring at the floor for a moment. "It's a known side effect of the drug I'm taking."

"What is?"

"Low blood pressure," Shane said. "He stood up and his blood pressure tanked."

"Is this going to be a long-term problem?"

"No, not likely. He's still adjusting to the medication and that will change over the next few weeks. He just needs to be careful when standing up for a while."

"Of course," Ducky said.

Tim stifled a sigh and forced himself to look up at Ducky.

"Are you ready to go, Timothy?"

"Yeah. I'm ready."

"Good. Let's go."

Tim got up (slowly) and followed Ducky out of the hospital. He got in the car and leaned back to stare up at the roof of Ducky's car.

"Tired?" Ducky asked.

"No. No more than I always am," Tim said, knowing he sounded bitter. He _felt_ bitter.

"You won't always feel that way."

"You say it like that should matter to me right now."

"I know it probably doesn't, but it should."

"Ducky, I just can't...be okay with this. I know you said that I shouldn't resent people because I'm the sick one, but..." Tim just sighed.

"...but you are."

"Yeah. I don't _want_ to. I know I shouldn't. I know it's stupid of me, but it's just not fair that this happened to me!" Tim swallowed hard. "I'll be paying for it for the rest of my life, and the people around me don't have to worry about that. Not at all. They don't have to think about their hearts beating, but I do. Every minute of every day."

The car slowed and Tim looked out to see that Ducky was pulling over. He stopped the car and turned to Tim. Tim wasn't sure what was going on.

"Timothy, I realize, as much as anyone around you can, how this feels to you. I know it takes time to wrap your mind around it, but the faster you can do it, the better it will be for you. Your life changed in an instant, but you don't have to expect it to stay the way it has become. You can and will improve. It's hard to accept these limitations and you fear that they will be permanent, but you can and should have hope that it will get better."

"It's not just that, Ducky," Tim said. "I mean...it is that, but it's something else, too."

"What is it, lad?" Ducky asked.

Tim looked away, not wanting to give voice to what he felt worst about.

"Timothy, what is it?"

"Now that I've had one heart attack...I'm a lot more likely to have another one. CAS can manifest in a lot of different ways. A spasm as serious as mine was can lead to cardiac arrest. I know it can get better, but it can't go all the way. My heart is damaged and there will be scars on my heart, and...and I'm afraid that...that I'm going to die. I'm only in my thirties, Ducky. I shouldn't be having to worry about that, but I am, now. I'm terrified that I'm going to die a long time before I should. I just don't know how to...not worry about that."

Ducky squeezed his shoulder.

"Timothy, you have read too much."

Tim laughed a little.

"You're probably right."

"I don't blame you for being afraid, but you can't let that become all your life is. If an early death is part of your future, there's very little you can do except make the life you have worth living. Instead of dwelling on the possibility of missing out, make sure that you don't. Now, you have required recovery time, of course, but embrace your life. Don't fear it."

"Easier said than done."

"Of course. Very little that is worth having is easy. It will give you something to look forward to."

"Ducky?"

"Yes?"

"Could I have these little pep talks more often?"

Ducky smiled. "Of course. Anytime. You have but to ask."

"Thanks."

Ducky pulled back onto the road and drove Tim home.

Tim stood up (slowly) and walked into his empty home. In spite of the fact that he hadn't done much physical work today, he was tired, but he also had been told to keep up eating regularly because it would help him heal. So he made a sandwich and ate it quickly before going to his bedroom and sleeping. He only took the time to set his alarm, making sure that he woke up to take his medication.

Then, he slept.

 _Every 44 seconds...within 15 minutes...as little as 5 minutes...100 beats per minute...At least 60 minutes..._

Over the next few weeks, a kind of routine was set up. On the weekends, Delilah was there. During the week, everyone took turns checking in on Tim, taking him to his therapy and just being supportive. Tim still had his ups and downs, but as his health improved, so did his attitude.

That didn't mean that everything was better. Tim had a few more spasms while they fine-tuned his dosage, but he was also learning how to use the nitroglycerin that he'd been prescribed and that helped reduce his panic every time he had pain or tightness in his chest because the nitroglycerin worked so quickly. The first spasm had been while Delilah was there, and she had been afraid as well. Luckily, Tim had told her about what to do, and so she had been able to keep herself from panicking.

After a few more weeks, Dr. Dayley settled on Tim's dosage of amlodipine and also determined that Tim's spasms were _not_ triggered by any kind of physical exercise. However, he was still cautious about what Tim did during the early morning hours and he recommended that, even when Tim resumed his duties, that he should not be assigned the kinds of tasks that required extended time in cramped positions early in the morning. Was that a genuine trigger? It was hard to say, but given that it was that kind of situation that had resulted in his heart attack, it was better safe than sorry for now.

It was nearly three months after his heart attack that Gibbs began to think about what would happen when Tim came back. Tim hadn't even suggested that he was ready, and for once, Gibbs was uncertain about what to do. He didn't know if it would be better or worse to encourage Tim to return to work. With everything that he'd experienced in his life, he'd never known anyone as young as Tim who had a heart attack.

 _Every 44 seconds...within 15 minutes...as little as 5 minutes...100 beats per minute...At least 60 minutes..._

It was a Thursday night, possibly the most boring night of the week if one cared about such things. It wasn't yet the weekend, but it was so close to it that it made anything that one did seem inferior to what could be waiting in just 24 hours.

However, for Gibbs, all Thursday meant was a night that was hopefully slower than other nights and he could work on his boat without interruption.

He was in the basement, deciding on whether or not he was ready to start attaching boards to the keel, when he heard a knock on the door and then the sound of the door opening.

"Hello? Boss?"

Tim. Considering how weak he'd been, it was a relief to have him awake and moving beyond eight o'clock. He'd take that kind of interruption.

"Down here, McGee."

Gibbs put down a board and turned toward the stairs. Tim opened the door, looking hesitant. He also looked much better than he had but still not back to normal. There was still a bit of a worn look to him. Maybe that just couldn't go away quickly. Maybe it wouldn't ever. Gibbs didn't pretend to know. He turned back to his boat, giving Tim a chance to collect his thoughts.

Tim walked down the stairs...and then, he didn't say anything. Gibbs looked back.

"What's up, Tim?"

Tim took a breath and sat down on a stool.

"Do you want me to come back?"

Well, that was a serious question. Gibbs set down the board again and sat down himself. Instead of answering, he just raised an eyebrow, waiting for Tim to elaborate.

"Dr. Dayley figures that we won't be able to figure out all my triggers anytime soon. It's just too hard with CAS. He's eliminated some, but that doesn't mean he knows what the actual triggers are. That means that there's no way to know if I'll suddenly have a spasm. We're not usually working overnight, but we are sometimes. That's what you'll have to deal with if you take me back. I know Vance said I was welcome. I know everyone is assuming I'll be back...but...is that the best idea? Should I really do that when I can't predict whether or not something else will happen?"

Gibbs knew that Tim had to think like this. He didn't want Tim to worry about it, but he knew he would. He knew that Tim had to ask the question. Maybe he should agree that it was a possible issue, but at the same time, there was really only one difference between Tim and any other person.

Tim knew that there could be an issue and others didn't.

"No one can predict what will happen to them. No one. You're a step ahead because you know that it's possible."

"Yeah, I do."

Gibbs could tell that Tim didn't see that as a good thing. ...and it really wasn't. He knew that, but it was best that Tim didn't keep looking at this as an unmitigated tragedy.

"Do you _want_ to come back?"

"Does that matter?" Tim asked.

"Yes."

Another deep breath.

"Yes."

"Then, you should."

"But that can't be all I think about."

Gibbs smiled. "Obviously, it's not."

To his relief, Tim smiled back.

"You won't be back full time right away. We take it slow. You'll be fine."

Tim still looked worried.

"You want to come back?" he asked again.

"Yes."

"Then, you come back when you're ready."

"And you're okay with that?"

"Yes."

"Can I start Monday?"

Gibbs smiled. "Yes."

"Then...I'll be there on Monday."

"Part time."

Tim nodded.

"Desk duty only."

Another nod.

"Tim?"

"Yeah?"

"Go home."

Tim stood up.

"Thanks, Boss."

Gibbs just nodded and watched Tim leave. Then, he walked over to his work bench and poured himself some bourbon. He sipped at it and considered having someone with permanent heart problems on his team. Would it be a problem? He didn't know. It could be, but he wasn't going to give up on Tim being back when he wanted it and probably needed it, too.

Decision made, he set down the bourbon and went back to work on the boat.


	11. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

 _Monday..._

Tim took a breath and looked at himself in the mirror. He knew he wasn't ready for full time. He knew he wasn't ready for anything other than desk duty right now. He knew all that, but he also knew that he was _really_ glad to be going back to NCIS. He didn't want to give that up, and Gibbs had decided that he wouldn't have to.

Now, it was time to overcome the anxiety and take the first steps back.

"Are you ready?"

Tim turned around and looked at Delilah.

"I don't know. Do I look ready?" he asked.

Delilah rolled over to him, pulled him down and kissed him.

"You look fine."

"But do I look _ready_?"

She smiled.

"You look ready for what you'll be doing. You don't necessarily look ready to start wrestling yet, but you look ready for work."

Tim smiled back. "A diplomatic answer."

"Of course," Delilah said and then she got serious. "Tim, I'm just glad to see you doing so well. If it weren't for the fact that I know you really want this, I wouldn't care if you went back to NCIS."

Tim leaned down and kissed her.

"Thanks."

"Now, you don't want to be late and I don't want to be late, either. I'll see you tonight."

"I'm glad you're back here."

"Me, too."

Tim headed to work.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

He stood outside the building for a few minutes, just staring at it. Had he made a mistake? Should he have listened to Gibbs? Maybe this wasn't what he was supposed to be doing. Maybe he was just asking for trouble by coming back here.

He felt in his pocket for the nitroglycerin spray. It was there. He hadn't had to use it in weeks. He knew that was the idea, but still...

"Hey, McGee! Back to work?"

Tim jumped a little and looked back over his shoulder. Sure enough, Tony was walking up the sidewalk to join him.

"Yeah. Just part time. Just desk duty."

"Doesn't matter! You're back, and that's what matters."

"Maybe," Tim said, unable to keep the anxiety out of his voice.

"No maybes about it, Tim. It took, what, five minutes for you to have a heart attack. Now, it's time to walk back into the building and you aren't allowed to take any more than five minutes."

"I don't think it works like that," Tim said.

Tony started to propel him forward.

"Yes, it does. It does because I say so. Come on!"

Tim allowed himself to be directed into the building. They went through security and up to the bullpen. Tony, then, pushed Tim to his desk and made him sit down. Then, Tony sat at his desk and grinned.

"What?" Tim asked.

"That's what was missing. Glad you're back, Tim."

Tim smiled.

"Thanks, Tony."

He took a moment to look around the room. Then, he put his hand over his heart and felt it beating. It felt normal. Maybe it wasn't completely. Maybe it never would be completely, but it felt normal.

Just a few minutes had dramatically changed his life, but he hadn't been required to face them alone. Not those minutes or any of the minutes after.

Tim looked at Tony

Yes, he was glad to be back. No matter how long it took to get all the way back, he was ready to work at it.

That was what mattered. He just needed to remember that.

FINIS!


End file.
